


THE ROSE GARDEN

by heatherpeters



Category: The Blacklist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Romance, scarred hero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatherpeters/pseuds/heatherpeters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an alternate universe story, in the vein of Beauty and the Beast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I do not own any part of The Blacklist.
> 
> This idea/concept was a gift from my friend, beta buddy and inspiration, cress26. Thanks so much. Writing this is gonna be a gas.

“Elizabeth Keen, you have been found guilty of shop lifting.”

Liz stood in court with her lawyer, Kate Kaplan, by her side. Convicted of shoplifting and now she was about to be sentenced. What had gone wrong in her life? What would happen to her if she went to prison?

Her entire body trembled, her throat dry as sand and her head hurt.

The events of the past six months had been too much for Liz to bear. Losing Sam to cancer, then having her husband leave her suddenly, had driven Liz a little crazy. So one night, after having a little too much to drink, she found herself at the book store.

Feeling lonely, abandoned and so alone, she found herself in the children’s section of the store, and saw what she was looking for. It had been a fat volume of children’s fairy tales. Seeing it reminded Liz of a similar tome Sam used to read to her when she was a little girl, the Velveteen Rabbit.

The next thing she knew, she was walking out of the store without paying for the book, and store security detained her. She was arrested. That’s when Liz knew she’d hit rock bottom.  
The one and only phone call she could think of was to Glen, a sweet little man who had befriended her at the Department of Motor Vehicles, where Liz worked.

The next thing Liz knew, Glen had procured the services of an attorney by the name of Kate Kaplan, a no nonsense older woman who assured Liz that whatever happened, she would not be going to jail. 

Standing beside Kate now, waiting to be sentenced, Liz silently prayed that her lawyer was correct.

“Elizabeth Keen, I sentence you to six weeks of community service. Your sentence will be carried out immediately, and you will be taken to Rose Hill, to the home of an esteemed patron of this community, where you will perform the duties of housekeeper, cook, cleaning woman and gardener. You will reside at said home for the duration of your sentence and if at any time I receive word that you have not fulfilled the terms of your sentence, you will find yourself facing me once more, and you do not want that to happen. Do you understand?”

Liz nodded, trying to take in all that he just said. “I do, your Honor.”

He continued. “Since this is your first offense, I will leave the rest of the details to your esteemed attorney. In the meantime, you can thank her for this ruling; Court adjourned.”

As the diminutive man left the courtroom, Liz turned to her lawyer, who managed a sly smile and shrugged. “Kate, I don’t know what to say.”

Kate grabbed her rather large tote bag then shook Liz’s hand. “Quite alright, Dearie, it’s my job. Now, Elizabeth, it’s time to go.”

The older woman with the black rimmed glasses, smart blue suit, and oversized bag and serious expression, managed a small smile and led Elizabeth from the court house.

Moments later she led Liz to a shiny black Mercedes parked nearby and both climbed in the back seat. The driver, a big, somber, black man with a pleasant face gave her and Kate a pleasant nod, then pulled away from the curb.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about.”

Liz nodded, wide-eyed at her lawyer. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me the details.”

Kate dug into her cavernous tote, pulled out a brown leather folder and opened it on her lap. A photo of what appeared to be a mansion was atop a pile of other papers.

“This is Rose Hill, an estate located approximately an hour from here. It is owned by Mr. Raymond Reddington, a prestigious architect who owns the house. He is a widower, with no children, but he loves his home and needs a housekeeper. He, as well as Glen, is a client of mine and has been my friend for over two decades. Because you are also a friend of Glen, you were brought to the attention of Mr. Reddington. Glen vouched for you, told Mr. Reddington what a good person you are, and divulged your circumstances, which included the loss of your father, and your divorce.”

Liz listened intently, thinking all this a dream. Why would a stranger agree to take her into his house?

“I know what you’re thinking, Elizabeth. The answer is: Raymond Reddington cherishes the few friendships he has, and he values loyalty above all else. If you are a friend of Glen, you are a friend to Mr. Reddington.”

“But why does he need a housekeeper? It’s obvious he’s wealthy and can hire a team of people to take care of him.”

Kate shrugged, closing the folder and placing it back into her bag. “He employs others to perform certain duties. The man is an eccentric, so I cannot profess to know his reasons; all I can say is: just do your job, endure your six weeks, and you will be able to go home, and resume your life. You’ll barely see him and when you do, try not to stare.”

Liz shook her head. “What?”

Kate folded her arms and looked at Liz. “He lost his wife in a car accident ten years ago. Raymond was at the wheel, and to this day, he blames himself. He was badly injured in the accident and his face……”

Her voice trailed off as Liz waited for her to regain her composure.

“Just try not to stare at him. He’s practically turned into a recluse since Carla passed away. Glen said that you are an excellent cook. I hope that’s true because you will be required to prepare his meals every day.”

“I can cook, yes.” Liz answered, still attempting to absorb all Kate was divulging. “Where will I sleep?”

“You will have your own suite of rooms on the second floor, in the east wing. Raymond’s rooms are located in the west wing of the same floor, where you will never venture, understand? You will stay to your rooms, or on the main floor to cook and clean. You will never enter his bedroom, is that understood, Elizabeth?”

Liz nodded weakly.

“Good. He is not an easy man to know. But he is a good man, make no mistake. Speak when you are spoken to, do what you are told, and you’ll get through the six weeks. Oh and another thing.”

There was more?

“Yes?”

“He prides himself in his rose gardens, which are located throughout the property. Unless you are told to enter said gardens, never venture there, understand?

“Why?”

“Because they border the family cemetery which adjoins the house. Only Raymond tends to the flowers there. I have told him time and time again to get a gardener, but he adamantly refuses to acquire landscapers in the cemetery area. He is a brutally stubborn man, and you will soon discover that for yourself.”

Before long, the driver turned into a long, winding road which led to a stately, magnificent estate, bordered by tall pines, maple and oak trees. 

“It’s so green everywhere.” Liz commented as she looked out the car window. “It’s almost surreal and, so beautiful.”

“Raymond loves being surrounded by nature. He specifically had a dining area enclosed in glass so he would feel as if he’s dining in a forest. To each his own, I guess.” She shrugged as the driver parked the car.

“I have so many questions, Kate.”

“I knew you would. So take this.” She reached back into her bag and pulled out a thick folder, fastened with a leather tie. “It’s yours to keep, and will give you the complete history of the house, including a map of the interior of the house. Just remember, don’t go into the west wing.”

Liz took the folder. “I don’t have any clothes.”

“I took the liberty of going to your apartment, and packing everything you will need, including shoes and jeans, toiletries, iPod, laptop and cell phone. There will be a television in your room, and of course since you have a suite, you will also have your own bathroom, plenty of closet space and your own terrace as well. I’ll walk you in, introduce you to Raymond then be on my way.”

Liz swallowed hard, her nerves on edge as the door was open for her by the man who Kate called Dembe.

Why did she feel as if she was entering another world? What awaited her on the other side of this door?

As Dembe grabbed her bags, Kate used her key and led her inside. Liz took a deep breath and held her chin high.

Whatever happened from this moment on, she would survive.

The entranceway was a mix of marble floors dark walls and tables that held vases of roses everywhere she looked. The scent of flowers permeated her nostrils and lent a heavenly mood to the room. 

As they stood in the vestibule, Liz came to the realization that this would be her home for the next six weeks. She’d be living with this Raymond Reddington. She hoped her room had a lock. 

But if Kate said this man was honorable and could be trusted, she believed her. Nevertheless, she tried to calm her cold, shaking hands by pushing them deep in the pockets of her leather jacket. 

She was brought out of her silent thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

“Kate, is that you?”

The voice that came from behind them was a sensuous deep-timbered baritone that strangely sent a ripple of awareness through her.

As if in slow motion, Liz turned to see and meet the man behind that voice, and froze.

That face. His face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz meets Raymond for the first time, and sees him as a man who is deeply wounded, physically scarred, and extremely shrouded in mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not own Blacklist or its characters.
> 
> Thanks to cress26, for her inspiration. This was your idea; Im putting all into words now, and loving it.

She remembered what Kate had said. Don’t stare.

But she couldn’t help it.

Raymond Reddington was an intimidating presence to be sure.

Always one to be an excellent observer and a good judge of people, Liz took her fill of the man who virtually would be her employer, or jailer, however one looked at it, for the next six weeks.

“Like what you see, Miss Keen?”

She was so taken aback by his question, she actually took a step back, and words deserted her.

“Come into the library, where we can talk. Dembe, please bring Miss Keen’s bags to her room, in the East wing.”

That one quick glance at him, and he reminded her of a beautiful, terrible angel, marked with a long vertical scar that slashed his face from his hairline to his chin.

Yet, he was an attractive man. His green eyes were bright and astute, his chin was prominent and strong, shoulders and arms well muscled and fit. And his full lips were impossible to miss. 

Simply put, the scar simply proved to make him an extremely sexual, dangerous beast.

She followed him into an opulent library, books everywhere, surrounding them from floor to ceiling. Roaring flames snapped and crackled from the imposing fireplace. He settled himself in an ornate, antique arm chair before the rising golden flames, where Liz held her breath as the fire reflected in his horrible visage, as if Satan himself ruled from that chair.

“Sit.” His command brooked no refusal. Liz took the chair facing him.

“Mr. Reddington, let me take this opportunity to thank you for your generosity. I --- “

He rudely interrupted her. “Let’s get this straight, Miss Keen. I want neither your thanks nor gratitude. I’m simply doing a favor for a friend. And do not take this opportunity lightly. The first sign of laziness or indifference on your part will end in your incarceration. Do we understand each other?”

She clenched her hands on the arm rest white knuckled, but she held her tongue and simply nodded.

“Good, now I will only say this once, then I don’t expect to see you, except at meal times.”

He continued. “You will have your own suite of rooms, as I’m sure Kate has already told you. A television, Wi-Fi access and a stereo system are there for your enjoyment, as is this room. You may feel free to borrow any book you’d like, seeing how you seemingly have a propensity for books.”

Liz lowered her head, instantly liking the fact that he had made a small joke, although at her expense.

“You will awaken at six a.m. each morning to start your day. A list will be placed in your room each night to instruct you as to what your chores will be. Am I making myself clear?”  
“Yes, I understand, but –“  
He raised a hand to silence her. “You will cook, clean and keep house according to the instructions left to you. When you complete the last directive of the day, you may retire to your rooms.”

“At no time, are you ever and I mean ever, to disturb me or enter my wing of the house. If you have a question, or problem, you can contact Kate. You are welcome to enjoy the gardens that are closest to the house, but you are never to venture into the adjoining cemetery and you will never pick the roses in my gardens. You may, of course, collect bouquets of any other flower on the property. Believe me, there are dozens of species of flora that you will enjoy collecting, I’m sure.”

He was an imposing presence to be sure. Dressed all in black, from the partially unbuttoned silk shirt, to the perfectly pleated silk trousers and imported Italian shoes. He dared her to meet his gaze, and she had no problem doing so. Maybe he wanted to frighten her away, so that she’d leave and decide that incarceration would be better than staying here. No chance.

She wouldn’t dream of leaving now.

Raymond Reddington was obviously an eccentric, interesting, mysteriious figure of a man, and it was clear he was in pain, whether it was caused by grief, guilt, regret, or a combination of all three. What kind of man took in a complete stranger, simply because of a favor owed a friend? She didn’t believe that.

In his eyes, she saw a heart breaking sort of loneliness, so much so that he’d built a wall and closed out the rest of humanity, aside from perhaps a close knit circle of friends and associates. That scar on his face was but one layer of what lied beneath. And what wounds would he carrying on the inside?

Still it wasn’t her job to analyze him. She was here because something told him to do the right thing.

And she was going to find out what made this man tick. But for now…

“Yes, thank you; I adore flowers and I will enjoy having a fresh bouquet each day.”

“Yes, well, whatever.” He directed his attention to the fire and did not meet her gaze. “I’ll make sure a vase is placed in your room.

An uncomfortable silence grew between them for only a second or two before he took a deep breath and continued.

“And before you think about intruding in my personal my life, Miss Keen, I will give you the short hand version. “The scar I carry and that you seem so intent on staring at was suffered in a dreadful car accident ten years ago. My wife was lost in that accident; she is buried in that cemetery.”

“Yes, Kate told me. I’m so very sorry.”

“So am I, Miss Keen. You see, my wife was the lucky one – she died, I did not.”

Liz swallowed hard, and suddenly she wanted to jump from her chair and hug him. He was a bitter, distraught man, apparently alone in the world, and who carried the guilt of his wife’s death on his shoulders as if a mountain of rock and ruble had been placed there.

No words of sympathy from her were going to mean a damn thing to him, so she kept silent. 

Finally, he rose, which meant their meeting had come to an end.

“We’re done here, Miss Keen. You may retire to your rooms. Kate has graciously offered to show you around the grounds in the morning, then you will be given your list of duties. You will start the day after tomorrow.”

As he turned from her, Liz interrupted his departure. “Aren’t you going to ask me anything about myself ?”

What could have been misconstrued as a smile crossed his lips. “Don’t be naïve, Miss Keen. I know everything about you. Where you’re from, education, age, your ex-husband’s name and the fact that your father passed away not long ago.”

Liz could swear that he appeared as if he would convey his sympathy, but in a second, that expression of regret disappeared, as if a hint of his humanity had surfaced, for merely a moment.

“Of course I also know that you worked with Glen at the Department of Motor Vehicles. He’s quite taken with you.” He allowed his gaze to slide down her body. “He pointed out that you’d been kind enough to bring him several meals while his mother was suffering from a bout of Legionnaires disease or some such malady that we all know was but one of his tall tales. But I digress.”

“You took a book without paying for it. A children’s book for God’s sake. It was a foolish thing to do.”

She placed her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “Foolish yes. I went through a hard time. I’m not making excuses for myself.”

“No, you shouldn’t. It’s a sign of weakness, Miss Keen.”

“I’ll do anything to make amends. I’ll work hard.”

He turned and fully faced her, brows raised, head tilted to one side, a deep commanding voice that brooked no argument. “Oh yes, you will, Miss Keen.”

And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving Liz alone to wonder what was it about this heartbroken, seemingly arrogant, high-handed man that left her shaking in his wake. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz is introduced to her new home and is instantly curious as to her mysterious benefactor, Raymond Reddington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Blacklist or any of its characters.

Liz was stunned to find that the opulent suite of rooms assigned to her were more than twice the size of her former modest apartment.

She’d followed Kate Kaplan up the winding staircase to the east wing of the imposing, rather intimidating house; much like its owner, she mused silently. Works of art by the likes of impressionists, Monet and Degas adorned the walls, shared with the abstract realism of Jackson Pollock.  Somehow, the diverse myriad of impressionists and surrealism fit.

Finding herself in this place, Liz couldn’t help but smile at the succession of events that had occurred in the past few days. Everything since the day she was picked up for shop lifting, then standing before a judge, to being sentenced to community service, then…. here.

But why here?  In this looming estate a ‘guest’ of the mysterious, Raymond Reddington who, on the surface, appeared a bitter, angry, guilt-ridden man?

Add that to wealthy, intelligent, not to mention, terribly handsome, even with that facial scar that was at once, horrible and yet, beautiful.

He had purposely given her the impression of an intimidating, high handed, eccentric with no heart or sympathy for anything or anyone in his path. Naturally he’d wanted to scare her, to make her think he was as hideous as he appeared, but there had been something in his expression, in those dark green eyes of his that told her more.

He was a broken man, with no one. No wife or children to speak of, only this ridiculously cavernous sanctuary with too many rooms, and no one to live in them.

Except for him….and now, her.

As she moved deeper within the suite, Kate presented her with the lay of the land, so to speak.

“Here we are Dearie; this will be your home for the next six weeks. Not too shabby, even by my standards.”

It was magnificent. “Kate, it’s too much.”

Kate nodded. “Four rooms, including a spa sized bathroom, an efficiency kitchen with fully stocked refrigerator, living area, where you’ll find a laptop, iPod, stereo system and television with cable. There are also a collection of videos and music CD’s.”

Liz stepped deeper into the area as though in a dream. Why was she put up here? She was a convict, for all intents and purposes. “Why Kate? He doesn’t even know me.”

Kate pursed her lips together, and her cryptic answer gave Liz pause for doubt. “I’m a good lawyer.”

They entered the living area, complete with an oversized flat screen mounted to the wall. Another corner of the room was devoted to a computer station. A laptop, printer, scanner and copy machine, all brand new, all put there for her use? Why?

Centered near one of the ceiling to floor windows, was a quite extensive stereo system, with CD changer, and at least one hundred various formats of music, from classical to country, from rock to hip hop.

The sofa and love seat was plush with tufted pillows and decorated in a floral design, a round glass coffee table topped with hard covered books covering subjects ranging from photography, to art and of course, flowers; and this was only the living room!

“Kate?”

The older woman looked at her and folded her arms across her chest. “Whatever you may think of Mr. Reddington, he is an honorable man. There is no one else in this house, except other members of the staff. Dembe lives here as well, and I have my own suite when I’m in town. We are all his associates and we are available when he needs us.”

“You respect him.” It wasn’t a question.

Kate shrugged. “The pay is good and Mr. Reddington is a very good employer. He values loyalty above all else in his professional and personal life. Please remember that, Elizabeth.”

“I will,” she nodded.

“So, do you want to see the rest of your little place?”

“Little? I’ve seen condos that are smaller than this!”

Kate shook her head and led Liz through the additional rooms of her temporary home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Her head spun by the time they were done. After a tour of her rooms, the grounds, and the areas of the house she was allowed to wander, Liz was given a list of her duties.

Kate had been so helpful and compassionate, stern but friendly. She’d already informed Liz that her fee for representing her in court had been taken care of. Liz knew instantly that it had been Reddington.  Again why?

She thanked Kate after being informed that she could have the rest of the day and all tomorrow to get used to the routine and take stock of her new surroundings.

The gentleman who’d driven her here and who’d carried her bags to her room, Dembe, was pleasant enough as well. He’d brought fresh milk, eggs, and bread and placed it in Liz’s tiny kitchen, where a toaster oven, microwave and state of the art coffee maker stood. He managed a small smile as he added ice cream, chocolate cake and for some strange reason, yogurt pretzels. How had he known that she adored dipping pretzels in ice cream?

No matter, Liz shrugged it away for the moment as her mind was filled with a multitude of  issues she had to memorize.

Fact was, her bedroom was fit more for a queen, than a shop lifter.

If she hadn’t been awestruck by this time, the presentation of her bedroom should have been a clue. It was white.

Snow white.  Pristine white. Virginal white;  Everything from the lavish carpeting, to the lush lace curtains hanging from those long windows.

Then, there was the bed.

Liz had never quite seen a bed this roomy.  It had to be some sort of king sized. The coverlet was white lace. And were those blankets cashmere? Liz was sure that by this time her mouth was hanging open in a very undignified manner.

Delicate silk netting hung from the four posters that bordered that huge mattress. Liz would literally be cocooned in clouds of snowy cushions.

The vanity in the corner of her bedroom held silver framed brushes, combs, curling iron and hair dryer, all resting on a marbled surface.

But the one thing that attracted her attention was the large oval mirror that was the focal point of the dressing table. It was ornate and antique, to be sure, encrusted with gold carved roses all around the edges. Slowly she sank into the cushioned tufted chair and stared into her reflection.

Why was she being treated to such a room, while her job here was clearly to be a servant to an unapproachable, scarred, mysterious man?

She tilted her head while staring at her reflection and frowned.

“Who are you, Raymond Reddington?”

She waited several moments, peering into the glass as if the mirror was indeed enchanted. Would a haunting voice magically voice the answer she sought?

Maybe not from a mirror, but Liz Keen wasn’t one to sit and wait for answers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Red sat at his drafting table, tapping a marker on the blank page of his sketch book. He needed to start a new project today, designing a group of condos on the other side of town.

But he was distracted today. He removed his eyeglasses and placed them next to his compass and slide rule, then pinched the bridge of his nose and slid a hand over his scalp in a weary gesture.

He crossed his arms and stared out the open glass doors of the terrace. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on his project.

She was here. In his house.

He’d made a mistake in taking her in. She shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t in the habit of taking in strays.

But she wasn’t a stray, was she?

 _Its only for six weeks_ , he reminded himself. _You will have done Glen a favor, instead of listening to him rattle on about his friend, Liz._

And why had she been arrested anyway? Glen had discovered that she had no criminal record of any kind. _My God, it was only a book_ , he thought, shaking his head. Criminals worse than she had received lighter sentences, so Kate had informed him.

God help him, he had a soft spot in his heart for Glen even though the man was impossibly insufferable. But, the man he’d known for over twenty years had thrown business toward Red’s way dozens of times, so it was only fitting that Red return the favor by granting this young woman sanctuary while she served out her community service.

His initial plan was to give her a tiny room across from the kitchen, utilitarian, but functional. But he’d immediately thought against it. This house contained a dozen rooms that would never be used anyway. So he had his crew construct the room she would reside in for the next month and a half.

It was quite a distance across the hall from him, so he wouldn’t have to deal with her, see her, talk with her. Yet, here he was, thinking about Elizabeth Keen.

Dismissing her instantly, he turned from the window, slid his eyeglasses back on, and took a deep breath. The work he did as an architect, plus owning his own lucrative contracting business took up most, if not, all his time and he liked it that way.

Being a workaholic suited Red. Nothing else mattered: no wife, no family, no responsibilities except for him, the work, and the house.

As for women, he occasionally dated, escorted lady friends to dinner, maybe the theater. He often traveled for business, but always preferred being alone with no disruptions, namely sex. Self imposed celibacy suited him. No ties or emotions to deal with. He may not have liked it this way, but it was best for him.

Looking across the room at the long folding table he’d set up last night, he fixed his gaze to the dismantled Sorrento music box, and exhaled deeply.

Wire brakes, brass rods, winding links and sliding stoppers were laid out in neat rows, as well as fixing screws and the musical movement mechanism. Red took a moment to think about all the work that would be involved to bring this piece to its former musical treasure.

He’d found it in a forgotten trunk of mementos belonging to his grandmother, and actually felt sorry that something that had once been so lovely had been disregarded and in essence thrown away.

It would take him at least six weeks to finish. But he’d do it, even with all he had on his plate business wise. He’d work day and night if he had to. It wasn’t unusual for him to work on a project, foregoing sleep for days. He’d done it before.

Looking at his watch, he hadn’t realized that it was time for his daily visit to the cemetery, to place roses on Carla’s grave. After ten years, it became a daily routine for him to perform what was now, just habit.

Red had been a terrible husband, even with the knowledge that Carla had cheated on him with Frank. Nevertheless, the fight and ensuing crash was his fault. He’d taken his focus off the road in order to shout at her.

And now she was dead.

Had they really loved each other?  He wasn’t sure they ever did. And as the ensuing years passed and melted into nothingness, all he felt was guilt and self loathing. That was why he’d never remarried. He didn’t deserve the love of a woman and was sadly resigned to that fact.

Rising from his desk chair, he nearly stumbled. The pain in his leg was particularly annoying today.  He rubbed the affected area where more than one scar remained, stroking down the length of his muscle, until the pain subsided. It was only what he deserved: Chronic pain on a daily basis for his sins. Guilt would never allow him to forgive himself for Carla’s death. He sought no forgiveness nor did he expect any.

He gave a fleeting thought to the young beauty who was now housed here, with him, in this living tomb.

Dembe had pointed out earlier that Red had taken in Elizabeth Keen because deep down, in his heart, he was a good person, doing the right thing.

He laughed and shook his head. Leave it to his adopted son to resort to sentiment.

The right thing?  No. In the past ten years, Red never ever made a decision based on emotions. Emotions only clouded judgment and damaged the soul, it shattered the heart and distracted the brain from doing only what was best for him. He was a broken shell of a man who knew nothing except the searing pain and endless suffering that went along with them.

And having a beauty in the person of Elizabeth Keen in this place of aloneness would not repair what would be broken for all time.

TBC

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief second meeting between Liz and Raymond proves unforgettable for both of them.

After Kate left her on her own, Liz basically was given an entire day to become acquainted with the house, her purpose here and everything that entailed. So she decided to explore.

She decided on a pair of white cotton Capri’s, a pink tank top, and neon pink sneakers, and swept her hair up in a ponytail. A dab of lip gloss and a splash of body mist and she was ready to go.

Exiting her suite, she passed the collection of art in the hall and once again, stopped to admire the masterpieces that were on display.

When she arrived downstairs and headed toward the front door, she couldn’t help but gaze upon something that caught her eye: A magnificent window of stained glass that portrayed Mr. Reddington’s rose garden.

Liz couldn’t help but step closer, perusing the tall, beautifully crafted glass. The myriad of colors fascinated her; crimson and lavender, white and yellow, her fingers traced the flowers that were obviously handcrafted with loving care.

As she made her way out the front door, Liz continued to wonder about Raymond Reddington. He obviously appreciated beautiful things. His collection of art, books and this beautiful glass was a testament to that.

The man gave the impression of a cold, uncaring man. But maybe he was just…… lost.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Red was placing a bouquet of yellow roses at Carla’s grave when he heard the front door slam shut.

Apparently Miss Keen was out and about, acquainting herself with the lay of the land, so to speak.  He was not prepared or willing to be seen or confronted by her, and just wished to return to the house and his work room without being seen. But he wouldn’t be able to avoid her. He’d have to pass her on his way back to the house.

Her presence caused him to take notice. Her profile provided him with a vision of the woman, alluring and feminine. The white shorts accentuated her long legs, while her tank top outlined her slim waist and the curve of her full, round breasts.  Her hair was worn up and off the nape of her neck, and those pink neon sneakers she wore were silly enough to make him smile.  It also caused a tiny stirring in his loins that unsettled him to the point of discomfort.

And before he realized it, they stood face to face.

“Hello, Mr. Reddington.”

Grateful to be wearing his amber tinted sunglasses, she wouldn’t be able to see that he was studying her smiling, dimpled countenance.

“Good afternoon, Miss Keen.” _Why did she have to be so pretty? So friendly and easy to look at?_

“My friends call me Liz.”

With a raised brow, his tongue slid across his lips as he ignored her directive and stood silent. He couldn’t help but gaze at the way the sun highlighted her mink brown hair.  She wore no makeup, except for a tiny hint of color on her lovely, bow shaped lips.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liz swallowed hard as his gaze washed over her. She, in turn, gauged his body language, rigid with self loathing, no doubt. “The suite is lovely.  I came out to pick some flowers for my room. The gardens here are like living in the midst of a botanical paradise. I just wanted to thank you for taking me in. It was very sweet of you.”

“It’s nothing of the kind,” He snapped. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

_Quick, don’t let him get away_ , she mused. “If you like, I can put fresh flowers in the dining room every evening, so that you can enjoy them with dinner.”

“That’s not necessary.” He shot back, then saw her smile disappear and knew he’d taken it away. 

He cleared his throat, blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Thank you, Miss Keen; that would be lovely.”

Her smile brightened. “I know you said I couldn’t pick the roses, but I see peonies and gerbera daisies?  Maybe hydrangeas? “

She’d taken a step toward him, and her sweet scent carried to him on a summer breeze. It reminded him of picnics and laughter and swimming parties. “It’s difficult to pick a personal favorite. I enjoy them all.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He began to sweat; her sweet smile warming its way his cold heart. “Yes, well, good day Miss Keen.”

As he turned from her, she touched him, just a light tug on his shirt sleeve, but it burned its way to his skin. “Oh, you said it was okay if I used the library?”

His voice faltered and lowered to a whispered breath. “Feel free to borrow anything you’d like.”

She nodded. “Thank you.  I love to read.”

A short nod followed. “As do I.” And with that, he turned and walked away.

Progress, she thought. At least he'd spoken to her. Liz considered it a minor victory. Maybe he wanted her to think that he was an intimidating monster, but she knew better.

Savoring her tiny breakthrough, she turned made her way to a garden bench, taking in the scents and sounds of a beautiful summer day. Bees droned, crickets chirped, and she took a deep cleansing breath. She may have been confined to this house and the grounds for six weeks, but she didn’t feel like a prisoner. In fact, she’d never felt so free. And she had the mysterious, scarred Raymond Reddington to thank for that.

After gathering an assortment of daisies, peonies and the like, Liz made her way back to the house. A stunning cut crystal vase had been placed on her kitchen counter, and Liz chuckled lightly. For a man who gave the impression he was an ogre who fashioned himself a horrible human being, in one afternoon Mr. Reddington, had proven otherwise.

Running the water in the sink, she trimmed the stems and arranged the summer bouquet in the tall crystal container. After stuffing the last ivory peony in the vase, she carried it to her bedroom and placed it on her vanity, beside her gorgeous mirror.

Opting to turn off the air conditioner, Liz threw open the windows in her suite. Finding a lovely piece of classical music, she filled the multi-CD changer, and pressed ‘play.’

Finding the ingredients for a salad in the refrigerator, she sat at her small kitchen counter, enjoying her lunch and tall glass of lemon iced tea.

Less than an hour later, she found that the combination of Debussy and the summer breeze made her drowsy, so she locked the door to her rooms, and stripped down to her panties and bra. Truth be told, she couldn’t wait to sample that bed.

She was instantly cushioned by clouds of soft fabric. Closing the netting, she turned on her side. The music, gentle wind and the fragrant scent of summer blossoms soon lulled her to sleep.

As she drifted off into peaceful slumber, her last thought was the image of Raymond Reddington, master of this place and all it comprised.

Liz suspected that he was but a fallen angel, whose scars were merely a charade he used as a shield to disguise the man he truly was.

 

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Red was breathing hard by the time he made it back to his office.

He drew off his glasses and threw them on his desk, then sank into a chair, and buried his face in his hands.

In the space of minutes, Elizabeth Keen had thrown his well organized quiet life into an imminent state of chaos.

All because of that smile, those dimples, not to mention her expressive sapphire eyes that held a youthful optimistic outlook on life, even in her current situation.

A life he would never be privy to.  

His leg burned and he struggled to rise. Nearly stumbling over to his built in bar in the corner of the office, he clumsily poured himself a scotch.

Throwing it back in one burning swallow, he poured another.

Slamming the glass down, he pushed his arms out in front of him, watching his hands tremble.

_This is what happens when you allow a woman into your house,_ he mused sullenly.

“What the hell was I thinking?”

Closing his eyes and rubbing his leg till the pain eased, he made his way back to his drafting table and perched himself on his chair, His heart raced, his throat dry as sand, and he forced himself to take deep even breaths.

Why had he listened to Glen? Why had he taken pity on the young woman and given her sanctuary here? In his home?

Home? No, he mused. This was his tomb. Just a place to exist while he lived what was left of his life. He stopped caring what happened to him when he crashed that car a decade before.

There was no redemption for him. And a smile and pleasant conversation shared with that young woman was not going to change a thing. She was here because she was forced to, not because she wished it.

Forty two days, that’s all. And in the meantime, he’d avoid her, take his meals in his rooms. He never had to see her again. And when her time was done, she’d leave him, go on with her life and never see him again.

Grabbing his eyeglasses, he perched them on his nose and focused on his project.

Within minutes, he’d nearly forgotten all about the encounter with the beauty who resided as a prisoner in his home. His hand was steady once more, so he picked up a slide rule and marker, then proceeded to work on a particular area of his design.

Peace soon ensued.

That is, until he heard the faint, haunting strains of “Clair de Lune” apparently drifting from an open window in the east wing.

Lifting his head, and closing his eyes to the sounds of Debussy, Red soon realized that his desire for peace would not be possible as long as Elizabeth Keen was near.

 

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	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red sees Liz in the library and they share brief conversation; but he sees himself as only a 'beast' and chides himself for his attraction to her.

Liz didn’t see Reddington for the next few days. She was told that he’d be taking meals in his room, that he wasn’t feeling well.

She didn’t buy that for a minute. He was avoiding her; that was plain to see. So why had he agreed to have her live here for six weeks? Yes, she knew he’d done it because of his friendship with Glen, but still?

She continued to do her work without question or argument, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought of him every day since their encounter in the garden.

Truth was this was all none of her business, except getting through the days until her community time was completed. Then, hopefully, she’d be able to get her job back with the DMV.

Liz wasn’t a quitter, nor was she afraid of life out there. She’d been through the death of her beloved stepfather, Sam. She’d also endured a broken marriage, after discovering her husband had been unfaithful, as well as a pathological liar, a thief and God knows what else. But all that was in the past.

She’d survived her arrest, and brought in front of a judge for a crime she took full responsibility for. A stupid thing to do, for sure, but she would serve out her sentence without excuses.

Now she found herself living here, and she owed that to the generosity of the elusive, scarred man with whom she knew almost nothing about. She was given a chance at redemption, and she wasn’t about to take it for granted.

But who or what would redeem Raymond Reddington? Did he desire redemption?

Everyone deserved a second chance at redemption, didn’t they?

Not her good for nothing ex-husband, that was for sure.

But Raymond Reddington sure did.

 

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She had just completed her last chore for the day and was about to retire to her suite, when the man called Dembe approached her, wearing a warm, sweet smile.

“Hello, Elizabeth. How are you today?”

She smiled back.  “A little tired, but otherwise, fine.”

This man knew Raymond Reddington; not just as his driver. They were close.

“I’ve come to give you your list of household chores for the next few days, and also to ask if you need anything. I’m going into the Village for fresh fruit and vegetables, then to the grocer.”

After giving Dembe her own list of supplies, he nodded and turned to depart, but she stopped him.

“Why has Mr. Reddington avoided coming down for meals, Dembe?”

“That is none of your concern, Elizabeth.”

“I know that, Dembe. But I was brought here to work, and preparing meals was part of the deal, so why hasn’t he come down for mealtimes?”

His eyes widened a bit, whether in surprise or thoughtfulness, she couldn’t say.

He could have walked away, disregard her as just a servant, but something stopped him.

“Will you sit?”

She nodded and they sat across from each other in the formal dining room.

She rested her hands in her lap, while he crossed arms across that massive chest. “You are doing a good job here. Raymond is pleased.”

She squinted and shook her head. “Well, he has a funny way of showing it. I’ve seen him only twice since arriving here. We’ve exchanged no more than a dozen words, and then, nothing. I was told he was taking meals in his suite. I’ve prepared three meals a day, and yet, he doesn’t make an appearance. I assume he goes to the cemetery or to the gardens, but he’s like a ghost. Who is he, Dembe? Why did he take me in when he clearly doesn’t want me here?  He told me that he was involved in a car accident that took the life of his wife ten years ago, but I get the impression that his wounds go much farther than his physical scars.”

The man opposite her was still as stone and stared at her, expressionless, as if weighing all she’d said. It seemed as though he too, would give her no answers. Then he rose and faced her. “Please do not take it personally. He’s suffered greatly.”

Liz knew there was more than this man was saying. “You two are close; I can tell.”

“Yes. He took me in when I was just a boy. We are like brothers and no greater love have I for him, then if we were related by blood.”

Before he took his leave, he leaned in to Liz, and smiled. “Look past the scars, Elizabeth, and there you will find an honorable man; a good man. For the time you have here, I believe you can do good.”

“And by the way,” he said conspiratorially. “His favorite food?  Navajo tacos.”

You could have knocked her over with a feather. He could have told her he had two heads and she wouldn’t have been as surprised as she was by his proclamation.

Then they burst into laughter and he left the house, leaving Liz thinking on all he’d said.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What is this?”

Raymond looked down at the large platter, then up at the petite woman wearing a gray business suit.

Kate Kaplan sat across from her employer and friend, placed a linen napkin in her lap and didn’t wait to be told to help herself to the mouth watering dish.

“They’re Navajo tacos, what do they look like?”

He frowned at her, but secretly his mouth watered as he, too, helped himself. “Did she make these?”

Kate shook her head and nearly swooned as she enjoyed her taco. The combination of the avocado, beef, sour cream created a feast for her taste buds. “Well, you know I can’t cook worth shit, and Dembe is out for the evening, so that leaves Elizabeth. You going to eat, or talk?”

“This wasn’t on her list of meals to prepare.”  He picked up the fry bread that was heaped with what he guessed was just the right amount of onions and spicy seasoning. He hadn’t enjoyed this dish in years and taking a bite, Raymond closed his eyes and savored the chaos of flavors that entered his mouth. He’d nearly forgotten what a delicious treat this was, and found it so delectable, he was unable to speak.

Within moments, they’d consumed nearly the entire platter. Raymond poured Kate and himself a liberal glass of red sangria over fresh peaches.

“These are yummy. I wonder how she made that fry bread.”

Kate picked up a stray cube of tomato from the tray and popped it in her mouth, but didn’t answer.

Raymond groaned with pleasure. “The fresh avocado is delightful, and the sour cream doesn’t overpower the beans,” he pointed out.

Kate wiped her mouth, took a swallow of wine, and looked at him. “So why don’t you tell her. Give compliments to the chef. She’s in the library. And since you’ve made yourself so scarce lately, I think she’d appreciate some kind words from you.”

He wiped his hands on the napkin and placed it on the table. “I didn’t know you had designated yourself as my conscience, Kate.  Stay out of this.”

She pondered taking the last taco, just to spite him, but thought better of it. “In case you’re interested, she’s doing a great job. Is awake early in the morning, doesn’t turn in until after eight at night. If you bothered to go downstairs for a meal, you’d know that.”

He didn’t tell her that he knew exactly what Miss Keen’s schedule entailed. He was awake at precisely five every morning, in his work room by five thirty, and knew he heard her radio the moment she awakened, usually listening to the oldies station as she prepared herself for the day.

Kate didn’t have to tell him that she was downstairs preparing breakfast by six thirty, and after cleaning up the kitchen, went about her day’s work.

He knew everything that went on in his home, and that included knowing every move that Elizabeth Keen made.

He bit the inside of his cheek and gave her a look that would instill fear in anyone else. But Kate shrugged, ignoring his frown. “You can still catch her before she turns in.”

Raymond held the wine glass in both hands, swallowed the last of the sangria and placed the empty goblet on the table.

“She doesn’t need to be thanked; she needs to do what’s required of her for the remainder of her community service.”

Kate’s raised eyebrows informed him staunchly that she was done talking.

Exhaling heavily, he bit the inside of his cheek then rose wearily from the table, He hesitated, clearly conflicted, then placed the last taco on the linen napkin, wrapped it, and left the room.

Helping herself to more wine, Kate shook her head as a small smile curved her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He did, indeed, find her in the library with her back to him, looking through a section of books, and obviously deciding which one to choose.

He just stood at the doorway a moment, deciding whether or not to disturb her, when she turned and jumped.

Seeing him standing there, holding a napkin filled with taco, Liz couldn’t help but smile, while clutching her chest.

“My goodness, Mr. Reddington, you scared me.”

He drew a hand over his close cropped hair, his face displaying a pained expression. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –“

She thought he’d turn and leave, when she took two steps toward him and held out her hand. “No, no, I didn’t hear you come in.” And then she pulled the ear buds from her ears, proving that she was only frightened because she had not heard him.

“Did you want to use the library? Because I’m done in here, just picking out a book to read in bed.”

Suddenly an image of her in that big white billowy bed caused a stirring in his loins. He quickly dispelled the vision, cleared his throat, and regained his composure in record time.

“I just wanted to thank you for the tacos.” He saw a smile blossom on her beautiful pink lips. “They were, in a word, sublime.”

Liz held the book she’d chosen close to her chest and met his searching gaze. Empowered by his compliment, she stepped within inches of him.

“You’re very welcome. I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned in so close he could smell the evidence of her subtle perfume. “Shhh; Dembe told me they were your favorite.”

Not waiting for his reaction, she couldn’t help but slowly bring her hand up to his mouth. He apparently had no idea that there was still a tiny bit of avocado at the corner of his lips. He flinched instinctively at her initial touch when her thumb burned into him. “I see you enjoyed them.”  

His tongue worked across his mouth, and it seemed he’d almost forgotten he held a taco in his hand. “I didn’t know if you’d had dinner yet, and there was one left.” He held it out to her, and when Liz accepted it, their hands touched, warmth infused through him, and she raised her eyes to look deep into his green depths.

“Will you share it with me?” she whispered, waiting for his reaction.

For a fleeting moment, he took her words in a totally different direction. He shook off his carnal thoughts, and built up his well constructed wall of defense. “No, thank you. I have work to do, and I must be going. Please enjoy it.”

As he turned from her, she mustered her courage to confront him. “You don’t fool me, you know.”

And as she predicted, that got his attention. He turned and tilted his head, the scar on his face turned red, whether with anger, surprise or something else.

“We don’t know each other well enough for me to fool you, Miss Keen. Now say what you want to say, so I can get back to my work.”

She took a bite of the taco, then closed her eyes in pleasure, while his eyes stared unblinkingly. She was getting to him, and she knew it. She just wanted a reaction from him, wanted to know that he wasn’t the monster he portrayed himself to be.

She wasn’t fooled for a moment. He was looking at her. She wasn’t deterred by that scar or his eyeglasses. She knew when a man saw her, and not as a ….whatever she was supposed to be: a prisoner, whatever.

His hands were beautiful. And now they were clenched into tight fists. He was struggling with himself, trying not to notice her, but she knew better.

She knew when a man was attracted to her.  Raymond Reddington could fight a battle with himself, but he had to come to the realization that he was still a virile, handsome and yes, sexy man.

She met his gaze, daring him to look away. He didn’t.

“You want me to think that you’re this high handed, master of the manor. That you only took me in order to do a favor for a friend – but you’re wrong.  You’re hurting, and you think by scaring me and acting indifferent, I will just do my time here and disappear into thin air.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing. She was grateful for his silence. At least he let her speak.

“But you’ve done something wonderful for a stranger, and I just want to thank you, whether by cooking your favorite meals, picking your favorite flowers, or having a simple conversation.”

Now, his brows rose. “Miss Keen, just because I thanked you for cooking a delicious meal for me, which by the way is part of your community service stipulation, does not make us best of friends.”

He backed away from her, not wanting to inhale her scent, trying to ignore those deep blue eyes a weaker man could lose himself in. He tried in vain not to notice the way her breasts rose and fell as she spoke.

He wanted, needed, to run, from her; from those long legs that could wrap themselves around a man and bring him to sweet ecstasy. He fought to draw his eyes from those lips; watching her tongue dart out to lick the avocado and sour cream from them. Oh that tongue, and what it could do to bring a man to his knees.

Liz knew she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your –“

He backed further from her, lest he lose his balance and stumble. His leg was suddenly on fire, along with another part of him that hadn’t been stirred this way in years. This was a bad idea, taking her in, putting her in his house, on the same floor as his bedroom.

A bad idea all around.

But still, he didn’t walk away; so much as he wanted to.

She was staring at him, but not in horror. Seemed she didn’t care about the scar on his face. But she didn’t know about the other scars, the ones she couldn’t see, the scars deep in what was once his heart. As for his soul, he’d lost it long ago.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t an animal. She stood peering at him, stone still, waiting for him to say something, anything.

He exhaled deeply. “No – no, I’m sorry to have been so rude. The tacos were pure heaven, if you must know. How on earth did you manage such light fry bread, without the grease?”

“Shall I divulge my culinary secret?” she teased, hoping he’d play along.

He paused and she feared she’d gone too far. But those green eyes of his lit up with delight.  “I promise I won’t tell.”

“I used fried dinner biscuits.” With that, she took another bite of her taco and nodded. “They don’t get soggy and hold the beef and tomatoes better, don’t you think?”

He just nodded, but Liz nearly jumped for joy. She’d got him talking, even if it was only about tacos. She was on a roll. _Don’t stop now_ , she told herself.  “I also heard you enjoy beef stroganoff.”

Now a tiny smile curved his lips, making his scar seem less formidable. “I do. With noodles or rice, makes no difference.”

“Well, I guess I have my meal selections for the rest of the week. Thank you, Mr. Reddington.” She finally made a move to pass him.  “I’ll say goodnight now.”

“Goodnight Miss Keen.”

“Call me Liz, please.”

“No.” he replied, digging his hands in his pants pockets, and again, chiding himself for his abrupt manner.

“Miss Keen.”

“Yes?”

“What are you reading?”

She held up the hard cover copy of the Emily Bronte classic. “Wuthering Heights. I’ve read it a thousand times, but it’s one of those stories you never get tired of.”

Then she left him standing alone and he took a deep breath. She’d certainly had an impact on him, this lovely young woman, who spoke her mind, and was not intimidated by him.

He waited a few minutes until he was sure she was gone, then he closed his eyes and once more struggled to memorize her unique and feminine scent.

He slid his glasses from his face and rubbed his weary eyes. “Good night, Elizabeth.”

 

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An hour later, Red sat on his bed, the full moon casting a dim light in the room.

A tumbler of scotch in his hand, the bottle half empty beside him, his thoughts drifted back to the woman. Miss Keen.

Elizabeth.

It had been years since he had a woman smile at him, speak with him in such an animated manner. She seemed to be unaffected by his facial scar. She shared a conversation with him. She’d been nice to him.

Maybe they could be …..friends?

He slid from the bed, and took the glass with him into the bathroom to prepare for bed. He was tired, had worked on his design for over fifteen hours today; time for bed. But sleep?  Sleep rarely came these days, unless he’d imbibed in several glasses of single malt scotch to deaden his senses.

He turned on the bathroom light, placed the glass on the spacious vanity, then undressed.  Catching his reflection in the mirror, he dared to look at the scars on his shoulders, which spread to his back, a tapestry of misshapen and colorless damaged flesh. Countless surgeries had not repaired nor hid the ugly marks that were a permanent reminder of his sins.

He placed his hands flat on the vanity, and leaned into the mirror, disgust a reality he would never forget.

_“Who do you think you are?”_ His words slurred, the scotch beginning to take effect and he silently thanked the gods for the numbness that began to spread throughout his damaged flesh.

_“She sees you as nothing more than a monster, just the person who did her a favor by taking her in. You think a woman like her could be anything more than someone who is just waiting for her freedom? As soon as her time is served, she’ll run as far and fast as she can from here, from you!”_

He picked up his glass, and tipped it back, swallowing the last drops of liquor.

Running the shower with water hot enough to burn, he stepped under the spray, welcoming the heat. He allowed the steam to surround him, as if he wanted to hide his nakedness even from himself.

He picked up a bar of scented soap and began to rub it over his form; his face, and neck, chest and lower.

But not even the burning shower, or the liquor was able to wipe the vision of the woman from his mind, as he trailed the soap over his stomach and down between his legs.

An unwelcome erection caused him to groan with disgust, but the more he touched himself with the soap, the more he was unable to erase her vision from his mind. Closing his eyes tight, he dropped the soap and grabbed his hardness, hating himself for his arousal.

Because of her.

He lowered his head and flattened one palm on the tiles, while his other hand began to move up and down, gripping himself, pleasuring himself, harder and faster, hating himself for losing control.  He felt pleasure rising within him, closer and closer, then finally letting go as his climax came crashing down on him just as the hot water pounded his scarred flesh.

He cried out as he came, breaths heavy, heart pounding, legs weak until he thought he’d fall.

The alcohol, combined with his release, exhausted him to the point that he barely had the strength to wrap a towel around him and make it to the bed.

He threw the towel to the floor and opened the terrace doors. He needed fresh air, not the air conditioner. He prayed for the oblivion of sleep to forget their brief encounter.

But sleep would not come so easily.

Elizabeth Keen had gotten under his skin in an impossibly short time, and there was only one solution: demand that she leave.

There was only one thing wrong: he didn’t have the strength, or the will to let her go.

TBC

 

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	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emotionally and physcially scarred Red and a determined Liz form a tenuous bond of friendship.

In the ensuing days after their conversation in the library, Red decided to work and eat in his suite, foregoing meals in the dining room, lest it lead to another exchange or confrontation with that woman.

He was unable to call her by name even in his thoughts.  _That woman_. Cowardice was an emotion he abhorred, but it was better this way.

Through his self imposed reclusiveness, meals were delivered to his door by anyone who happened to be in the house at the time, but he did not encounter Miss Keen for the next few days.

He immersed himself in work, and only left the house to visit the cemetery, deliver his guilt-laden roses to Carla’s grave, or take a short walk through the gardens. This was all completed before daybreak, when _she’d_ still be sleeping.

This impossible situation was all his fault, he realized that now.  He was the one who’d brought her into his house, all on the pretense of doing a favor for Glen, who’d been a cherished friend for years.

She’d touched him; just a swipe of her thumb across his lips to remove a dab of avocado, but her warm touch smoldered like an ember fighting for flame.

How could she have had so much of an effect on him in such a short time?

_Maybe because you haven’t felt the warmth of a woman in a cool set of sheets in a long, long time. Perhaps the fact that she is beautiful young and desirable has caused a stirring in your body, to remind you that you are still alive, still young enough to enjoy life. The presence of this woman has informed you that you are still capable of arousal and sex….and love._

_Maybe you want her here, more than you realize. Maybe if anyone can give you a second chance, it is her._

“No!” he shouted in the quiet and self imposed aloneness of his work room.

Yet even as denial passed his lips, he knew everything was a lie.

His life was a lie. Wasn’t it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _This is ridiculous,_ she thought.

Applying oven mitts, Liz brought the pecan pie out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. And all the while she was unable to stop thinking about Mr. Reddington. It seemed they’d crossed a tiny thresh hold in the library last week, but it seemed their encounter did more harm than good.

Maybe she’d read him wrong. She understood that he was a man who’d been wounded emotionally, and after the horrific accident that took the life of his wife, who could blame him? Nevertheless, she wanted to know him. He’d been so cute, bringing her that taco, which for Liz, said something about the man he really was, and not the monster he pretended to be.

Relishing the sweet, nutty scent from the pie, she peeked out the window. The sun was high in the noon sky and she longed to be outside. Kate had given her permission to use the pool, which was located a short distance from the house.

Covering the pie with a glass dome, she headed to her suite to change into a bathing suit. She’d made sure most of her chores were done and had an hour for lunch anyway, so she’d make the best of it. A quick swim would refresh and rejuvenate her. It would also give her time to think about her reclusive host, and how to somehow, befriend him.

Ten minutes later, wearing a suit, cover up and flip flops, she grabbed a thick fluffy towel from her bathroom, and following Kate’s instructions, she made her way the short distance to the pool area.

Turning a corner toward the end of the gardens, she spotted a pool house, and beyond that, she found what she was looking for.

The Olympic sized pool, complete with diving board, and surrounded by cushioned chaise lounges. Countless potted plants stood throughout the large pool area, dotted with small round wrought iron tables and chairs, each topped with colorful striped umbrellas.  For a man who appeared to be somewhat of a recluse, this lovely bright area certainly was a testament to a man who possessed wealth in order to entertain large crowds.

Liz wasted no time in throwing her towel to a chair, kicking off her flip flops, and running to the diving board. She took the elastic from her wrist, and pulled her long hair high atop her head, and secured it tight.

As the hot summer sun beat down, she stood on the edge of the board, stared into that clear crystal clear blue water, then dove head first into the inviting depths. As she broke the surface, she shook her head free of wayward droplets, feeling refreshed and cool.  She dove and swam, floated on her back, savoring her sun, silently grateful to the eccentric stranger for his generosity.

It felt heavenly to flex her muscles, using every inch of her body, stretching her legs and arms. Maybe she’d be able to work in an hour or so here every day before she started her work. She’d get Kate’s approval before she did so.

Half an hour later, Liz reluctantly rose from the water, dried herself off and slipped into her cover up and sandals. She leisurely walked back to the house, feeling revived and ready to resume her work. She’d have a light salad and some iced tea in the kitchen, then continue with her afternoon chores.

As she opened the front door, her heart quickened. Hearing the refrigerator open and close as she approached the kitchen a tiny thread of hope stirred in her heart when she encountered the object of her silent thoughts turn to face her.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

There he was, in light khakis and a short sleeve white pull over, sitting at the counter. He looked like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and Liz thought she’d have some fun with him – whether he liked it or not.

“That’s for dessert, for tonight.” She feigned seriousness, but failed miserably when a tiny chuckle escaped her lips.

Instead of looking guilty or sheepish, he simply met her eyes, while taking another bite of quite a large slice of pie, then followed it up with a long sip from a tall glass of milk.

Still chewing, his eyes widened. “I believe this is my kitchen, my house, and this,” he pointed his fork in the direction of his half eaten slice, “is my dessert. Am I correct, Miss Keen?”

She threw her pool towel over an empty chair and placed her hands on her hips, feigning anger.

“Well if you’re going to get technical about it, yes.”

He wasn’t going to be allowed to bully her, not today. She felt too good, too hopeful.

And then he shocked her by nodding, his voice softening as he took another ravenous bite. “What’s your secret? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me. It’s the way you beat the eggs. I bet you use a whisk, correct?”

 _My gosh, he’s flirting with me_ , she thought. Well, maybe not flirting per se. This man blew hot and cold like a faucet. She decided to play along and take what she could get.

“Sorry, but that’s privileged information. You have to give something to get something.”

 _Please don’t run, please don’t run_ , she prayed.

He rose from the chair and Liz again knew she’d gone too far.

But to her delight, he turned to the counter, retrieved the pie cutter, then cut a slice of pie, placed it on a plate, and poured a glass of milk. He sat once more and tilted his head in silent invitation until she sat.

The man was exasperating, but Liz wasn’t going to question his actions. She sat across from him at the counter, and used her fork to sliced into a generous bit of pie. The combined scents of pecans, sugar and molasses assaulted her nostrils and she suddenly remembered how hungry she was.  “Thank you.”

He swept the last crumb of the scrumptious treat onto his fork, brought it to his mouth and swallowed the last of it.

“No, Miss Keen, thank _you_.”

She nodded, taking a cool drink of milk, while watching him over her glass.  _God, he’s so handsome, even with the scar. Makes him look dangerous, maybe vulnerable._

Or both.

“Did you enjoy your swim?”

 _He knew I was in the pool._   “Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he shrugged.  “No one else makes use of it; it might as well be you.” He stated matter of fact.

Here was the opening Liz was hoping for. Taking another refreshing mouthful of milk, she leaned into him. “Why have a pool if no one uses it?”

“Ah, again with the questions. Well, Miss Keen, since you so graciously baked a pie that is the yummiest I’ve ever eaten, I will grant you an answer, even if my business is none of yours.”

She stared at him, unrelenting, waiting for an answer.

“When my wife died, my doctor told me in no uncertain terms that swimming would be integral for my rehabilitation from my injuries. He stated that if I ever wanted to walk again, I’d be better off in the water, every day. So I had the pool built, used it for a few years.” He stared off to a point over her shoulder as he continued.

“I used it less and less as I did, indeed, walk again. So there it stands. Dembe uses it pretty often, as does Kate.  Have you completed your inquisition for today, Miss Keen?”

Liz nodded slightly, finishing the last drop of milk, then picked at an errant pecan and popped it in her mouth.

“Thanks for sharing that with me, Mr. Reddington. Well, I’ll be getting back to work.”

“As well you should, Miss Keen.”

Her brows furrowed, wishing he’d keep her there, enjoying more conversation, but it was not to be.

“Will you be down for dinner tonight?  If you think the pie was delicious, wait until you taste my beef stroganoff.” She announced cheerily.

He shook his head. “I have too much work and a deadline, but thanks all the same.”

He looked at her then, an intense gaze that sent a frisson of electricity through her.

“What?”

He swallowed hard. “You have a little…..” he gestured to her chest, pointing out the rather large morsel of pie that she obviously missed.

_My gosh, between the avocado last week and the pie now, we can’t seem to keep food in our mouth._

Liz decided to play. This was her moment. Leaning down to see the morsel of pie on her upper breast she picked at it, but instead of placing it back on her plate, she lifted her finger to her mouth. While throwing him an unblinking gaze, she sucked her finger for effect, closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy as she relished the sweet treat, then dared to see his reaction.

She watched as he swallowed hard, his nostrils flare and his eyes dilate. _He’s aroused_ , she thought.

Liz herself experienced a tiny stirring of desire deep in her groin. Before she could say a word, he blinked in an attempt to regain his composure, but it was too late. She’d witnessed his attraction to her.

 _You are a fraud Mr. Reddington_ , she thought with glee as he excused himself rather hastily, leaving Liz to smile like a Cheshire cat in his wake.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I want her out of this house. She needs to be gone.”

Gripping a glass of scotch in one hand, Red stood with his back to Kate Kaplan as he stared out the window in his office.

“What the hell are you talking about? She’s doing a wonderful job, Raymond. She’s livened up the place, making it seem more like a home, rather than a tomb. Even you have to agree.”

He turned sharply, silently growling, but his ugly mood would not and could not silence Kate. It was evident that he’d already imbibed too much liquor for one day. She decided to tread lightly with him, lest he refuse to listen to reason. In the ten years since Carla died, Kate had suffered through a myriad of moods with him. But this one was different.

“I don’t have to agree to anything. I am willing to admit I made a mistake. Find her a tiny apartment to serve out the rest of her community service, Kate. I’ll pay for everything; just get her out of here!”

She stepped up to him like a woman on a mission, and grabbed the liquor from his hand, then placed it on his desk. This had to end, now. “Who are you?” she demanded, deciding to play hard ball with him.

“What the hell do you mean, _who am I_?”

“You heard me. I’ve known you for how long? Twenty five, thirty years? I’ve never ever seen you like this, even after Carla died. You’re drinking too much, working too much and refusing to tolerate this young woman. My God Raymond, did you ever think that she’s lonely? That maybe, just maybe, she’s trying to show her gratitude by going out of her way to cook your favorite meals, bake your favorite pie?”

He squinted, forgetting where he placed his eyeglasses. “And by the way, where and who acquired the recipe for the pecan pie?”

Kate raised her head, challenging him. “Dembe called Chui at the diner. Elizabeth wanted so much to do something nice for you, she went to the trouble of asking me and Dembe what would please you. So tell me, what the hell is going on with you?  Are you attracted to her? Are you afraid to admit that you like her?”

He dug both hands in his pockets and began to slowly pace the length of the room.

“I could fire you for talking to me like that, Kate.”

She pursued her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh please. Dembe and I are the closest thing you have to siblings. I’ll never leave you, neither will Dembe. Like it or not, we love you, dearie.”

His eyes softened and brimmed at her words. As she approached him and grabbed his hand, he frowned and nodded. “I’m sorry Kate, please forgive me for shouting. It was not my intent. It’s just that, this girl, she – she…”

“You like her and that’s alright.” Kate tugged on his hand. “Everyone in the house has taken to her. She’s a sweet vibrant woman, and she needs a friend." She touched his arm, “You could be that for her.”

“Look at me, Kate.” His voice was firm but had lost much of its muster. “I’m fifty-six, scarred and in pain most of the time. I’m a workaholic and very difficult to get along with.”

“More the reason why you could use the company of a woman like Elizabeth. I’ve never known you to be a tyrant, Raymond. Even in your own home; even when you and Carla were together.”

“I was a terrible husband; never home, working all the time; I always put work ahead of our marriage; we slept separately; I never gave her what she needed.”

Kate took a step back. “What about what she did to you? She was unfaithful, dearie. Not all the blame should fall on you.”

She handed him back the tumbler of scotch, then poured a tiny amount for herself, and took a tiny sip.

“Do you really think Miss Keen and I – that we could be friends?”

Kate had never seen him so insecure, vulnerable. If she didn’t think it was so cute, she’d pity him. But sympathy would never play with Raymond.

“Just share a meal with her, enjoy what she does in this empty house,” she pointed out. “Enjoy her company; it’s only for five more weeks.”

The thought suddenly made him sad.  He consumed the remainder of the scotch, handed the glass back to Kate and sighed. “Do you know where she is now?”

Kate hid a smile. “Check the kitchen or the library.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, obviously gauging all she’d said, then gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Kate. You can be a pain in the ass, but I don’t know what I’d do without my better half.”

“You’re welcome, dearie.”

He nodded, handed her his empty glass, and left the room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Like the week before, he once again found her in the library.

She was comfortably settled in one of his leather easy chairs, her legs tucked under her, seemingly so immersed in a volume that she failed to notice his presence.

“Miss Keen?”

He hated disturbing her, but her expression was so cute, he couldn’t help but smile. “I take it it’s a gripping read.”

She looked up and presented him with a smile so bright he nearly burst at the seams. _You’re a fool, thinking that you and she could be friends._

“Hello.” She looked up from the tome. “Just finishing up _Jane Eyre_.”

“Ah.” He walked deeper into the room and pointed to the chair across from her. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. The last couple of scenes actually make me cry. I’ve read this book a dozen times, and it still has the power to make me blubber like a baby.”

“Why wouldn’t it? The Bronte sisters are indeed, romantic legends.”

Liz nodded, and at that moment, their eyes met and locked. His hands shook a little, his heart beat a little faster, but he smiled at her, leaned further back into the soft leather of his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

“Will you read the last scenes aloud?”

He waited for her to laugh at him, or refuse. Instead, her smile curved into the deep dimples he saw now.  She nodded and lowered her eyes once more to the pages of the classic romance.

He closed his eyes and reveled in her sweet voice as she softly recited the Bronte masterpiece. She spoke just loud enough for both of them to listen to the eloquent words of the beloved Victorian romance. A thread of peace seeped into his weary bones as he focused on her calming narration, which proved a soothing balm to his scarred and tortured soul……

_“….No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward’s society; he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together…”_

TBC

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz takes a chance, enters the west wing and Rays suite, unaware of the circumstances of her actions.

Red watched as Liz read the last line, then closed the book with a sigh.

“Miss Bronte certainly knows how to write an ending, doesn’t she?”

Liz nodded. “I admit that the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen are my favorites.” She rose and yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m sorry; it’s late.”

Guilt assailed Red; he’d kept her from retiring earlier. “Of course. Goodnight, Miss Keen; thank you for the recitation – and the company.”

“It was lovely,” she commented as she turned to place the book back in its proper place on the shelf. But he stopped her.

“Why don’t you keep it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

He tilted his head and allowed himself a long glimpse of her lovely features. “Of course you can.” He replied with authority. “It’s mine to give, and it’s now yours.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She moved to walk past him, but stopped. He gave her a questioning look, and was unprepared for what she did next. Only inches from him, she stepped forward, nearly fell into him. “Thank you.”

Her arms were around his shoulders, the scent of her hair assailed him from the touch of her face against his, so soft and warm.

“And thank you for all you’ve done for me and for taking me in. You’ll never know how much it means to me.”

With an instinct born of need, he slowly returned her embrace, his hands trembling as he slowly dared to place one arm around her small waist. With a tentative gesture, he spread his fingers wide and dared to touch her beautiful, soft waves. “You- you are most welcome, Miss Keen.”

She leaned back and for a fleeting moment Ray thought that she’d kiss him.  Instead she whispered in his ear. “Elizabeth.”

His eyes brimmed and her warmth filled him with an emotion he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t sure he could speak. His voice was choked but he managed to whisper in a raspy tone.

“Goodnight… Elizabeth.”

She left him, standing alone, feeling bereft from her absence.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz practically floated up the stairs.

He’d actually allowed her to touch him!

Liz hoped that after their tentative embrace, he would consider her a friend. Raymond Reddington was a lonely, wounded man, and her only wish was that he’d realized that he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had her.

 _You will never be alone again,_ she thought as she entered her suite and closed the door behind her.

Slipping out of her sandals, she padded across the floor on bare feet, entered the bedroom and sat at her vanity. She placed the Bronte volume next to her mirror and smiled. How she’d enjoyed reading to him, as he sat across from her, eyes closed, concentrating on the eloquent words of the Victorian author.  

Stripping off her clothes, she entered the bathroom, drawing a bath in the oversized tub, pouring lavender bubble bath that had been provided for her when she moved in.

Liz decided to turn on her stereo and listen to romantic ballads. She lit several vanilla scented candles, then set them on the vanity.  Lifting her hair up with an elastic, she carefully stepped into the tub of frothy, fragrant foam.

Settling into the soothing water, she sighed and sank to her neck. Scooping translucent handfuls of suds, she playfully blew into them, spraying them everywhere.

Even though on probation and serving community service, she didn’t feel like a prisoner at all. She was fortunate that Mr. Reddington had been so kind as to take her in. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. Her body, as well as her mind, she discovered, had been affected by him. She was unable to stop thinking about him.

The candles flickered and danced, casting shadows in the dark room, as the warm bath caressed and surrounded her flesh. Allowing herself a tiny fantasy and envisioning that handsome man naked and across from her in the tub, she slid her hand down touch her breasts, circling her nipples, feeling her groin clutch at the sensation.

The music was low, John Legend’s voice declaring love and desire in his sexy tone drove Liz to touch and caress herself, fingers traveling down her tummy until she buried a finger into her center. She moaned softly, whispering Raymond’s name, imagining he was inside her. There was no mistaking her attraction to him. She knew that he’d felt something as well; an unmistakable chemistry that could not be denied, no matter how much he fought it.

Liz had no expectations; Raymond Reddington was a damaged, scarred loner. Set in his ways; a workaholic, rich and powerful, a widower with no children.

Liz cried gently; the tears she shed were not for herself, but for him. For this gentle beast that she feared, would never see the beauty in his own soul.

“Raymond.” She whispered brokenly, her arousal rising like a tide inside her own heat. She touched her breast with one hand, and stirred herself with the other to the point of no return.

She moaned brokenly, her climax approaching as she slid her finger in and out, squeezing her nipples until a ball of heat radiated through her. “I will make you smile again. You will see the light again.”

She kept repeating the silent vow as her orgasm ripped through her.

Time, he just needed time.

Maybe together, they could find the light out of the darkness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was early the next morning when Liz picked some flowers for the hall table as well as daisies for the kitchen, and peonies for her room.

She neared the border of the cemetery and saw him, placing roses on the grave of his wife.

He straightened and took a step back, head hung low, presumably in silent prayer.

Dressed in casual khakis and a robin’s egg blue short sleeved shirt that accentuated his strong broad forearms, he stood still as stone, hands at his side, fingers tight fisted, as if stressed.

Should she approach him?  Tell him that she was here should he need her?

 _No_ , _leave him be._ _This is a private moment, one in which you have no right to intrude upon._

Quietly, she started back to the house, carrying her bouquet, wishing she could have given him her support, but it was not to be.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He’d sensed, rather than heard her presence, seen her cut across the garden when he entered the cemetery a short time before. Ray watched her now, sauntering toward the house, while a sad smile crossed his lips.

She hadn’t wanted to bother him while he visited Carla’s grave.

Regarding her until she was out of sight, he recalled last night when she hugged him. Did she have any idea what her touch did for him?  Did _to_ him?

As far as he was concerned, her actions were but a sign of gratitude for the book he gifted her with; a onetime thing, he was certain of that.

He gave a thought to catching up with her, talking to her, gazing into those sapphire orbs and smiling with her. Oh how he longed to see her smile again. How he wished to share a laugh, enjoy the sight of those lovely dimples.

But his wish disappeared and he branded himself a fool for thinking of it.

After all, why would she want to spend time with him?  He was but a scarred shell of a man.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

The moment he entered the house, Dembe approached and informed him that an associate and friend of his, Leonard Caul, was waiting in his office.

Reluctantly pushing thoughts of Miss Keen from his mind, he straightened and briskly entered his office to greet his old, dear friend.

“Leonard, what brings you here?”

A short, stout man in his early sixties, Leonard Caul was easiest the most intelligent, tech savvy man Ray had ever known. He worked as bookkeeper, computer problem solver, and had the sharpest brain Ray had ever witnessed. However his presence here meant that a problem existed, somewhere.

They shook hands and while Ray took a seat behind his desk, directed his friend to take the chair across from him.

“What’s wrong, Leonard?”

His friend scratched his head thoughtfully, using the remaining three fingers on his right hand. Poor fellow lost two digits in a savage mugging a few years back.

“The foundation in a building from one of your property in the financial district is cracked, damaged. Department of buildings in New York will be on the scene this morning, so we need to get there to assess the damage and see what to do to fix it.”

For the first time in years, Raymond was reluctant to leave on business. He loved his work and was so dedicated that he enjoyed being hands on, especially when it was his design that had created the property. This building was his project, and his presence was important. He never sent an assistant or associate to solve a problem that he couldn’t solve himself.

Raymond nodded. “I’ll tell Edward to get the jet ready; give me a few moments to freshen up and put on a suit. I’ll meet you in the car. Dembe will drive us to the airfield.”

As Leonard rose, he looked at his friend. “I heard you took in Glen’s little friend from work. How’s that working out?”

For some reason, Raymond resented the fact that Glen had shared this information. All of a sudden, he felt possessive and jealous of her. “Miss Keen is fine; does her job admirably, and will be gone in several weeks. Just a favor for Glen you know.”

Leonard nodded amiably, taking the hint that Raymond would not share more about his house guest.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz’s heart dropped as she watched the car carrying Raymond, Dembe and another man, drive away.

Where was he going? Was he coming back today?

She leaned at the window in the front hall, as the car disappeared from sight.

He’d been dressed so handsomely in a white linen suit, tie, topped off with a snappy straw fedora.

Even thought she didn’t see him often, the house felt empty all of a sudden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Late that night, after dropping off Leonard, and with his business issues contained in a timely fashion, Ray found himself in the town car, Dembe at the wheel, on their way home.

As he wearily made his way up the stairs, he pulled off his hat and loosened his tie, wanting only to disrobe, and settle into bed. His trip had been a success, but he’d longed to be home, near her, close to where she slept.

But instead of walking to the west wing, he changed direction and made his way to the east wing, to Elizabeth’s suite of rooms. Knowing she’d be asleep, he placed the parcel he’d purchased outside her door to the side, so she wouldn’t trip over it.

Smiling wearily, he threw a last look at her closed door, knowing that he’d never deserve to cross that threshold.

After a shower and shave, and clad only in pajama bottoms, Ray tried to sleep, to no avail. He tossed and turned for at least half an hour.

He rose, poured himself a scotch, then walked toward his terrace doors. He threw them open and stepped out to the balcony, then gazed up at the full moon, his mind crowded with thoughts of Elizabeth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz rose after tossing and turning for hours and decided to take a stroll through the garden. It was late, with no one around, so she wore only a light summer nightgown and a thin silk robe with a wraparound belt.

Opening the door to her room, her eyes lowered immediately to the tiny wrapped package that had been placed on the floor.

“What on earth?” She thought aloud, lifting the bundles wrapped in white ribbon, then returned to her room.

Turning on her lamp, she sat at her vanity, and pulled the ribbon apart, to reveal the treasures within.

Three books, old but in pristine condition, were bound in leather. She lifted them to discover the titles. The first, _Sense and Sensibility_ , a Jane Austen classic; the second, _Wuthering Heights, one of her favorites_ , but it was the third volume that brought tears to her eyes.

It was the _Velveteen Rabbit_ , the book she’d stolen; the book from her childhood.

Liz felt her hands tremble as she opened the first pages of the classic tomes.

All first editions; she could smell the leather bindings, aged and golden and she covered her eyes, letting the tears fall.

He’d done this for her and she had to thank him, and not tomorrow. She couldn’t wait till the morning.

Placing the books near her mirror, she tightened the belt around her waist, and  before she had time to think, she flew out her door and headed for the west wing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 _What am I doing,_ she thought moments later as she stood at his door.  It was very late, very quiet, and chances were good, that he was asleep. But as she thought twice about disturbing him, she heard music coming from inside his room.

Haunting melodies drifted through the air and she recognized it as a sad adagio that Liz had once heard portrayed in a movie about war and blood, and death.

He was awake. Instinct drove her on.

So she knocked lightly. “Mr. Reddington?”

No reply.

“It’s me, Elizabeth.”

She tried the door, and it opened easily. She decided to take a chance and enter. After all, if he left her a gift, would he mind if she thanked him tonight?

Slowly she entered the living room, dark and shadowy, noticing that even the furniture, although beautiful and elegant, appeared dark and dim in color and design. She followed the haunting notes of the music, which led her to the entrance of his bedroom.

It was then she spied his silhouette at the window, outlined by the moonlight.

She stood frozen to the spot, her eyes fixed to him. He was broad and fit, clothed only in bottoms. He hadn’t seen or heard her yet, so she brazenly took another step closer, and noticed something strange….

Scars.  His entire back was a patchwork of smooth and rough textures of pock marred flesh.

Her heart crumbled in sadness for him as she covered her mouth and let out a tiny cry.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He heard the sound and turned abruptly, dropping his tumbler in the process,  shocked to see the woman standing in his bedroom.

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow to her lovely face, and for a moment he lost the ability to speak.

“Your b-back.” She cried. “My God I’m so s-sorry.”

He stood stiff and still as one thought entered his mind:  _She’s seen my back. She’s terrified._

Her reaction to his injuries crushed him, so much so that he grabbed onto a nearby chair as pain ripped through him. Yet he wasn’t surprised. She was no different than anyone else.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

She just stared at him, wide-eyed, tears evident on her cheeks, her hand visibly shaking as she just stood, staring at him.

Well if she wanted to see the beast, she would see him, in all his shattered ugly glory.

“I c-came to – to--”

“You came to see the monster?” He rushed toward her and grabbed her arm, pulled her deeper in the room and turned on his lamp, forcing her to face him.

“Do you want to see?  Well, then, look at what you came here for!  You were curious and couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He shouted, and for the first time, she was just a tiny bit afraid of him.

“Say something damn it!” he demanded as his other arm came around her. She didn’t try to run, didn’t speak. Her tears were testament to her emotions. But she knew she’d crossed a line and he would not forgive her so easily for invading his private space.

“Tell me why you’re here!”

And then something happened so quickly between them, neither would remember later the moment they came together.

In that frozen moment between terror, tears and trepidation, they collided as Ray pulled her into his arms, trapping her own arms to her sides as his mouth came crashing down on her eager, waiting mouth.

As the violins wept on his stereo, his mouth pressed hungrily into her lips, slanting her head to gain better access to her softness.

Liz responded eagerly, although she couldn’t move, and didn’t fight to be free. He probably couldn’t bear it if she held him as she wanted to. She didn’t care if he never stopped. It was as if she was outside of himself, watching him kiss her. It was as if Ray was unable to get close enough to her.

He grew hard, helpless to stop his arousal, making her tremble as his hands slid down her back, to her ass, pushing her into his erection.  Liz silently rejoiced as he let go and allowed her to be close for the moment.

Their mouths met again and again, deeper and desperate. He wasn’t gentle, his kisses far from tentative, as he slid his tongue along her bottom lip, and she opened for him without hesitation, silently cheering him on. Her mouth welcomed him and their tongues entwined and swirled, as she tasted scotch and desire.

_Please Ray. You can have me._

The place between her legs was drenched in heat, moist with desire and hunger for this man.

She finally managed to get one arm free from his tight embrace. But before she could touch him, he suddenly broke the kiss and nearly stumbled as he backed away from her.

 “Get out.” Breathless and raspy, his voice was barely discernible.

She looked at him, waiting  – waiting for what?

He lowered his head and turned from her. “Leave, Miss Keen.”

Her lips throbbed from his touch, her body awakened from their contact. She couldn’t leave him like this. “Don’t do this.”

He stopped but didn’t turn. “This was a mistake; it should not have happened. I won’t tell you again. Get out.”  Then, a choked whisper. “Please.”

She swallowed, her mouth dry, her emotions in a storm of confusion, but she wouldn’t argue with him – not now, not tonight.

Her voice was small and tear filled as she managed her carefully chosen words.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I- I just wanted to thank you for the books.”

And with that, she stepped lightly from his room, and gently closed the door behind her, leaving him standing in the shadows, his body riddled with guilt and shame.

She’d responded to his kisses, creating an ache inside him that would not be easily forgotten with a bottle of scotch. He was still hard, a tormenting reminder that she was here, and he’d been too weak to dismiss her.

Instead, he’d held her, tasted her, and hungered for something that he could never have.

Foregoing the now empty glass on the floor, he instead picked up the bottle of scotch, and stepped back out onto the terrace, cursing the moon in the cloudless sky as the violin-filled adagio requiem ascended to its powerful conclusion.

 

TBC 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Ray allow Liz to leave after their confrontation? Or will they form a tenuous bond?

_What have I done?_

The answer was clear as glass.

_He’d held her in his arms. He’d kissed the hell out of her. He’d tasted her mouth, her lips, wrapped his tongue around her own._

_Did he think she wouldn’t taste exquisite? Did he imagine not wanting her again after pulling her into his arms? Now that he’d sampled her hot sweetness and sent her away, now what?_

And she’d responded in kind; moving her head to gain access to his lips, pressing and insistent; she gave as well as she took. Elizabeth Keen was no fool. He kept telling himself he’d done it to punish her for invading his space, but he knew it was all a lie.

He was a lie. Everything about him at the moment, was a lie.

The liquor had done little to numb his self disgust. Moments after Elizabeth fled, he’d become ill, rushing to the bathroom just in time, before emptying the contents of his stomach.

His leg burned, so much so that he limped to the bed, and fell upon his mattress. All he craved was the oblivion of sleep to blot out his actions. Yet sleep would not bring peace, rather, only bring more questions and certainly no resolution to the events of tonight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz ran back to her room, slammed the door, locked it, then slid down the length of it, folding her legs to her chest. Wracking sobs shook her as she rocked back and forth.

_You brought this on yourself. This time you’ve gone too far. What if he tells you to leave?_

Who could blame him?

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she cried into her hands.

Perhaps it would be better all around if she did go away. She’d call Kate first thing in the morning and ask to be taken into custody. She’d rather spend the rest of her community service in jail than for Raymond to be reminded of what her presence in his house may have done to harm him.

Swiping at her tears with the palm of her hand, Liz rose from the floor and slowly made her way to the bathroom, where she washed her face.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she rubbed a finger over her throbbing lips, still a tiny bit swollen from his kisses.

One thing was for certain:  even through his pain, Liz realized that he’d hungered for her as evidenced in the power of his kiss. They’d responded to each other. And in those moments in each other’s embrace, illuminated by the moon light, in concert with the haunting strains of the music, Liz was certain of one thing.

He’d wanted her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Kate Kaplan was already waiting in his office when he arrived the next morning. The way she looked at him, tapping her foot, with arms folded across her chest told Ray that she knew what had happened between Miss Keen and him.

_Oh God, not here, not now. My head is exploding like a live stick of dynamite._

“News travels fast, doesn’t it?”

Kate’s frown deepened. “You look terrible; you need to stop drinking so much, dearie.”

Ray glowered at her, and swallowed hard. Kate had always been the voice of reason. Today was no exception. When she was right, she was right. “I need a few aspirin.”

“You _need_ to think about what you did!”

“If I’d thought about what I did, I wouldn’t have had so much scotch, so please stop preaching, and find something better to do with your time, Kate.”

She took a deep breath, lowered her voice then gently touched his arm. “She thinks it’s best if she leaves, Raymond.”

Distress gripped him so tight, that he sank into the nearest chair, and dropped his head into his hands.  “Leave?”

“Well, what did you expect? You roared at her like a wounded lion, scared the girl to death. She’s a tough one, but you crossed the line, dearie.”

“I crossed the line?”

“Stop answering my questions with more questions!  So, do I take her back to court? She’ll be incarcerated for her remaining time. You know that, don’t you?”

He did know. He took the glass of water and aspirin that Kate offered him. But no amount of narcotics would erase the pounding of his heart, the throbbing in his head. Add to that the burning sensation in his leg, so hot it was as though someone set fire to it.

“Answer me, Raymond. Do you want her to go?”

He sighed. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes you do.” She insisted.

The sound of her cell phone interrupted their conversation. Kate walked across the room to converse with the caller, leaving Ray to think about all she’d said about Elizabeth.

 _Let her go,_ he repeated over and over like a mantra in his head, attempting to act reasonable.

_Your life will go back to normal, whatever normal is. You won’t have to worry about avoiding her, especially when she’s in the library, reading one of your books, looking so lovely and sweet. Let her go._

“Who am I kidding?” he asked himself.

Kate completed her phone call, walked back toward him. “Well?”

_You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t stop her._

He looked up at her, and nodded. “I want her to stay, but I won’t force her.”

She nodded in agreement, gave him a brief supportive hug, and left him to his thoughts.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His mind made up, he wasted no time in looking for her.

He checked her suite first; no luck. She wasn’t in the kitchen or library. Sweat dotted his upper lip and brow.

All he could think of was, he couldn’t let her go. Not like this.

He grabbed his sunglasses and hat, and rushed from the house, determined to find her.

Nor was she in the pool. Crestfallen, he began walking back toward the house when he saw her and froze, his eyes drinking her in like a man dying of thirst.

Clad in a floral sun dress, she practically became a part of the scenery amidst a myriad of blossoms in a rainbow of colors and textures. She wore her hair down, her chestnut strands falling around her shoulders in soft waves. Seated on the bench, a petite bouquet of daisies in her hand, she lowered her head, inhaling the fragrance of the delicate flowers, while monarchs fluttered around her.

If Ray lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the vision of her here, in this patch of land, her beauty only adding to the majesty of this place.

Slowly and deliberately, he approached her, silently praying she would at least speak with him before making a decision to stay….or go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His footfalls caused her to turn and jump up at his presence.  “I’m sorry. I just wanted to pick some daisies to take with me. Is that okay?”

Instantly she noticed that he’d covered his face, first with sunglasses, then the straw fedora, tipped to the side to cover his facial scar. _What have I done to you,_ she silently mused.

“Miss Keen, sit.” He implored his voice soothing and apologetic. “Please.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz did as he asked, careful to leave a space between them on the long wrought iron bench.

Floral fragrances blended with a sea of colors, but it was the sight and scent of this woman that nearly threw Ray off balance. He cleared his throat, chewed the inside of his cheek, then managed an apologetic smile.

“I don’t know where to start, Miss Keen.” He folded his hands in his lap.

“Why don’t we start with our kiss, Mr. Reddington.”

His tongue worked across his lips; his hands balled into tight fists.

“I know that my inappropriate behavior is inexcusable. But I’m asking your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it.”

As she began to speak, he held up his hand. “No wait, let me finish.”

She nodded as he continued.

“As you well know, I’m used to being alone, and you startled me. I can just imagine how you must have felt, however, seeing my scars, which would terrify anyone. But I promise if you stay, you’ll never have to lay eyes on me again. I’ll stay in my part of the west wing, take my meals in my room and you--”

His voice cracked and Liz could not bear to be so far from him. She slid across the bench, and covered his hand with her own, allowing him to continue.

“I was so angry that you’d seen me that I wanted to punish you, and – and I lost control. I’m so sorry.  I hope I didn’t hurt you; truly, it was not my intent.”

He sniffed back a tear, so it seemed.

She listened intently, and her heart wept for him. She tilted her head then pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. He wasn’t demanding that she leave. _Thank goodness, this is progress._

She cleared her throat, wanting to say so much. She had to make him understand.

“When I saw that you left me those incredible books – thank you, by the way - I couldn’t wait to tell you what that meant to me. I know it was late, and I know I was told to never enter the west wing. But then I heard the music in your suite and – Mr. Reddington, I’m not frightened by your scars. Would you really think that I was so shallow?”

“But I know that the scars on my back frightened you and –“

She interrupted him in a determined voice. “What are you talking about? Do you honestly think I would want to leave because you have scars?”

Liz shook her head, tears threatening those deep blue eyes. “I wasn’t leaving because you _scared_ me; I thought you’d want me gone because my appearance in your room _scared_ you!”

He nearly chuckled at her words. “Scared _me?_ ”

She sat up a little straighter, her demeanor a bit defensive.  “Didn’t I?”

He crossed one leg over the other, but his attention never wavered from her face. He allowed himself to relax to some degree. “In a way, but Miss Keen, you have to admit that my marks are quite hideous. Unfortunately, many of the skin grafts did not heal well, making them, well, an eye sore, to say the least.”

“They are no such thing!”

Her tenaciousness delighted him. “Yes they are. You just happen to be an obstinate persistent woman who doesn’t scare easily. I know that now.”

Liz adjusted her posture and faced him. Hope took root in her heart. “If I’m stubborn, then you need to open up and let people know the real you.”

 _Why can’t I see your eyes?_ She thought but didn’t voice her question, staring at his sunglasses.

He relaxed enough to lean back into the bench, while Liz exhaled deeply. “You know I’m right.”

“Maybe you are, Miss Keen. So may I repeat again that I’m so sorry for my actions last evening. If I hurt your feelings in any way I apologize and hope – maybe – we –“

She released his hand and handed him the daisies. “Can we start over and be friends?”

She’d taken the words right out of his mouth. Their fingers touched as he took the daisies and she glimpsed at him as he bowed his head to inhale their summer perfume.

“I can try.”

She rose from the bench, and presented her hand to him. “Try harder.”

He looked up at her, hope blooming like the flora and fauna in his lovely gardens. “Friends.”

He took her hand in a firm grip, then shook it, reveling in her softness, her tiny fingers eagerly embracing his larger one. “So you’ll stay?”

“Yes,” she kept hold of his hand longer than she should, but he didn’t mind. He savored her touch, as if they were connected somehow; as if the breaking of that connection would somehow break him too. “Yes, I’ll stay, Mr. Reddington.”

Now he tightened the hold on her hand. “Ray.”

And then he saw the sun shine in her expressive blue eyes. “It’s time for me to start my work, _Ray_. Will you come down for dinner tonight?”

He released her hand, while an idea formed in his head. “Do you like barbeque, Miss Keen?”

“Is that an invitation?”

Damn but this woman made him smile, so much so that he almost made himself believe in  - possibilities. “Indeed. I’ll meet you on the back deck at seven; we’ll have burgers, ribs and hot dogs. I’ll cook. I even own an apron.”

They shared a laugh, two pairs of eyes settled on each other, blue on green.  “I make a mean potato salad.”

“Good, see you then.”

But before she left him, she dared one last thing.

She moved in closer. “I want to see your eyes.”

Tenderly, with great care, she lifted his hat from his head, slid his sunglasses from his face, and placed each in his lap, beside the daisies.

Then she peered into his eyes, showing him that he needn’t hide from her.

“There,” she whispered, her eyes searching his for a sign of fear or rejection. She found something in those green depths she hadn’t seen before  –  a spark of hope.  “That’s better.”

He said nothing, just fought to control his breathing as she straightened.

“See you tonight – Ray.”

As she turned, he called out to her. “Miss, K-- um – Elizabeth?”

She turned back, a question in her eyes.

“Feel free to treat the gardens as your own. And please -- help yourself to the roses.”

 _Ah, a small victory_. “Are you sure?”

It felt good to show joy, because in her presence, all he wanted to do was smile. “I’m sure.”

Acting purely on instinct, Liz took his face in both hands, and with a touch like the wings of a butterfly, lightly pressed her lips to his, tasting the tiny spark in his response.

To her utter delight, he tenderly kissed her back. They shared a warm touch, making Liz think and feel that anything was possible with this man, if he’d only open up and talk to her, so that she was allowed to ease his pain.

She brazenly took his hand and placed it over her heart. “Sooner or later you’ll just have to deal with the fact that I care about you, Mr. Reddington.” Her whispered confession obviously took him by surprise.

She winked at him, then turned and left him sitting on the bench. He closed his eyes, wishing only to cocoon himself within the confines of her words, her actions – and that kiss.

His hand still trembling from touching her, he tilted his head toward the sun, inhaled deeply and allowed himself to feel the sweetness of her kiss together with her affectionate declaration, wishing for this moment to never pass. Birds sang, insects droned and heady scents from the garden reminded him that life was still worth living.

He looked in the direction of the cemetery, and decided for the first time in a decade, to forego his visit.

He rose and grabbed his hat, glasses and the precious bouquet of daisies, then sauntered lazily toward the house.

It was time to embrace possibilities, to dream of second chances.

It was time.

 

TBC

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an enjoying a summer barbeque, a minor injury and a nightmare bring Ray and Liz closer together.

Any doubts Liz garnered about Ray actually showing up for dinner were dashed when the mouthwatering aromas of grilling meat assaulted her nostrils and beckoned her toward a picturesque area at the rear of the house.

Sliding open the screen door, she stepped onto a deck the size of a dance floor, and heard the smooth sounds of Harry Connick drifting through speakers. Not surprised, she found that a picnic table had been impeccably set for more than just a back yard hot dog and burger dinner. It appeared more like a five course picnic complete with a red and white checkered tablecloth, bottles of sangria, coolers of beer and bottled water, all to complete the festive summer setting.

As she set the large bowl of potato salad she’d made on the table, delight filled her when she spied a tall, large cut crystal vase, filled to overflowing with no less than a dozen lemon yellow roses, and sprigs of baby’s breath that joined several luscious orange tiger lilies and as a centerpiece, they added a spectacular sea of color.

She found him standing before the largest stainless steel grill she’d ever seen. She couldn’t help giggling as she spied him garbed in an apron that proclaimed, _“I’d tell you the recipe, but then I’d have to kill you.”_

He was surrounded by a cloud of gray smoke as he concentrated on a particular cut of filet mignon, joined by sausage, chicken and ribs, and her mouth watered from the smoky scent of seasoned spices. He turned and greeted her. “Hello there.”

“Did you invite the entire neighborhood?” she joked.

“I guess I got carried away. Hope you brought your appetite.”

She approached him and handed him a beer. “I’m not proud. I love to eat and will have one of everything.”

He lifted his bottle in silent thanks. “I haven’t entertained in a long time.” He told her, took a sip, then placed the bottle on a nearby table. “Feels good to cook again. It’s been years.” He had that faraway look in his eyes that told Liz he was remembering a life he once had, before the accident that took his wife, and left him scarred, inside and out.

He shook his head, as if swiping away the thought, and managed a weak smile. “Whatever we don’t eat, Dembe will take to the local shelter across town.”

“Ah, watch out Mr. Reddington, or you’ll have me believing you’re not as tough as you let on.”

Ray watched as she made her way back to the table, gazing at her when she inhaled the roses, leaning over the table and caressing one particular open bloom. He tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to notice this woman. She belonged in this setting, wearing a haltered sun dress the color of celery, her hair worn up and away from her face, highlighting her soft features and delicate ears, now bearing tiny gold hoops.  “I see you like the yellow roses. Did you know in many Eastern cultures, the color represents joy, wisdom and power?”

“I think I can spend my life just tending to flowers and plants and trees,” she confessed, tenderly caressing a perfectly bloomed rose. “There’s something so natural and relaxing about the care of plant life.”

He carried a large platter, filled with their meal, placed it on the table then turned to her. “Well then, perhaps when you’ve completed your service here, you can pursue a career in the florist industry. Personally, I think you’d excel at any endeavor you wished.”

As he guided her to sit, he served her and his casual demeanor caused Liz to watch him in awe. He was amiable, very relaxed it seemed. There was a slight breeze, breaking the heat of the day. He was wearing his signature light khakis, and deck shoes with no socks. A white short sleeved button down shirt with the top three buttons undone where a light sprinkling of chest hair peeked out. Liz wondered what it would be like to touch  him there, feel his warm flesh and hear his heartbeat under her hands.

“Elizabeth?”

She was brought out of her silent reverie by his deep timbre.

“Yes, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Please help yourself, and pass the potato salad please?”

Liz nodded, and together, they helped themselves to the feast placed in front of them. It was plain to see that he’d caught her daydreaming and she smiled, looking forward to a pleasant evening, and maybe, just maybe, getting to know so much more about this mysterious, enigmatic man.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two hours later, their stomachs full from just a little too much, Liz chided herself for eating that last rib. A light buzz from the beer made her a bit sleepy but she was enjoying herself. Good company, scrumptious food, and a perfect summer day put her in a relaxed mood. So here they were, listening to Harry Connick croon about love and life sitting across from each other.

“Can I ask you something?”

He savored the taste of sliced free stone peaches in his empty glass of sangria and looked over at her. “If it’s about my secret steak seasoning…..”  He comically pointed to the quote on his apron,  “….I’ll never talk.”

They broke out in laughter, Liz enjoying his light mood when their eyes met and held.

She emptied her own glass and used a spoon to get to the sweet peaches at the bottom. “Why did you take me in?”

She thought he wouldn’t answer because he hesitated for long moments, obviously commiserating. Then he poured her another glass.

“I met Glen years ago when we were both starting out as contractors. We were vying for the same job but instead became friends. There was an issue with the electrical wiring for a certain area of the building we were working on, standing in the basement inspecting the foundation of a work in progress.”

 He had a faraway look about him, recalling the details of that day.

“A live wire loosened and broke away from its tethers, swinging toward us. We’d been standing in a puddle of rain water. It had been pouring that day, and just our luck, there we were.”

Elizabeth sat still, and swallowed hard, waiting for him to continue the story.

Ray stroked the nape of his neck, apparently distressed at the memory. “I didn’t see the wire but Glen, bless his heart, turned to grab his clipboard and at that moment, saw the wire, and pushed me out of the way. I fell onto the concrete, received a few scrapes, a minor injury. But Glen was hit on his left side. I don’t know how many volts he caught, but he was in the hospital for four days with electrical burns.”

Elizabeth didn’t understand. “But he works for the DMV. What happened to his contracting career?”

Ray frowned, his eyes downward. “The shock from the live wire damaged his heart. He was told that he was better off receiving disability payments. But he isn’t the type of person to sit home all day and do nothing, so I  –“

“So you got him the job with the DMV to thank him for all he’d done for you as a friend.”

He smiled. “Elizabeth, to value loyalty above all else is an attribute I admire greatly. And with Glen, well, I told him if he ever needed my help – so, here we are.”

Liz focused on the flowers centered on the table. Their beauty paralleled the goodness in Raymond’s heart.

“Now I have a question, if you don’t mind. Why the Velveteen Rabbit?”

Liz exhaled deeply as she played with the droplets of water sliding down her glass, then met his questioning gaze. “It was my favorite book as a child. My dad read it to me every night after my mother died. We’d cuddle up on the sofa till I fell asleep. When he died I left it behind and when the house was sold, the new owners had thrown it away.”

She gathered her thoughts and went on. “After that, I got married, forgot about it, then……”

“I’m sorry, I’m intruding. Forgive me.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips together. “Not at all. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Very sure.”

“Well, after my dad passed away, I met a man. You know, tall, handsome, a teacher, nerdy, most of all…..safe. He made me feel safe.”

She saw Ray’s expression change from attentive one second to anger the next. He knew what she was going to say. “Did he hurt you, Elizabeth?”

His voice turned gruff and raspy, and she thanked him silently for his compassion.

She nodded. “He was unfaithful very soon after we married. Another teacher, I’m afraid, became pregnant and he admitted that he was the father. He’d fallen in love with her.” She shook her head. “It had been going on since we were engaged.” She cleared her throat and tried not to cry. “I threw him out that night.”

Ray seemed to triumph. “Good for you.”

“I kind of went a little crazy after that. I wanted to be in control again. I wanted something, anything to prove to myself that I could get anything I wanted. But I can’t explain why I stole that book.  I still don’t know how I could have acted so foolishly.”

Ray leaned in, and gently covered her hand with his, silently demanding she listen to him.

“You were feeling powerless, Elizabeth.  You had no control over who or what you were. The man you trusted had betrayed your trust, destroying all of your future dreams. Your lost your father. You needed to do something to bring the slightest bit of happiness back to your soul. So you took the book.”

“Now look at me: I’m a convicted felon.”

He shook his head. “When your sentence is over, your case will be reviewed again, and your record will be expunged.”

“You don’t know that.”

Unblinking, with purpose and certainty in his voice, he answered. “Yes, I do.”

Just as she was about to argue the point, he rose from his seat, effectively ending the discussion.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sun was just beginning to set in the summer sky when Liz helped him carry plates and leftovers back to the kitchen. She placed food in containers, filled the dish washer, and refrigerated all that needed it. In the meantime, Ray carried a fresh watermelon back outside, followed by Liz, who grabbed clean plates and knives to cut the fruit.

As Ray spooned sweet cut strawberries in small bowls and covered them with sugar and fresh cream, Liz took the watermelon and lifted the carving knife. Wanting to know more about him, she placed the melon on a cutting board. “That was Barber’s Adagio you were listening to the other night, wasn’t it?”

He slid a bowl of strawberries toward her.  “You recognized it?”

She nodded. “It’s a beautiful piece, but very sad.”

“Sometimes, it reminds me of how short and precious life is. Other times, I just like the violins, they sound as if they’re crying. Well… I guess it’s not the most upbeat piece, but….” He shrugged, as if he possessed no reason for his choice.

“No it’s not. May I suggest something more upbeat?”

She was grateful for his smile. “Like Vivaldi?”

“My windows were open. Sorry.”

“No need. I very much enjoy Vivaldi, and Mozart. I thought of you as more –“

Her eyes widened in mock horror. “More like who?”

His hearty laugh stirred her. “I was going to say, some soft jazz. Horns and saxophones, the piano keys dancing as if they were celebrating. How do you feel about jazz?”

“Love Coltrane and Gillespie. How about you?”

“Oh there are too many to count. Basie and Charlie Byrd, for sure. Have you ever been to the Vanguard jazz club in Manhattan, you know, Greenwich Village?”

She placed the knife in the center of the melon. “No I haven’t but maybe someday.”

He lifted a spoon filled with strawberries to his mouth. “It’s an experience you shouldn’t miss.”

She was still laughing, enjoying his company, but not paying attention when she felt the knife slip and sliced the outside of her left index finger.

“Oh!” Liz dropped the knife, as Ray sprang up from his seat and rushed to her side.

Blood was beginning to ooze from the wound, and Liz grew pale.

Ray took charge instantly. Grabbing a few napkins from the table, he immediately seized her injured finger and wrapped it tight, while leading her to the kitchen.

“Let’s get it under cold water, and stop the bleeding.”

“Don’t fuss, Ray, I’m sure it just needs a band-aid.” But her voice was weak, and the sight of blood, combined with the buzz from the wine, had her nearly swooning.

He shook his head. “There’s too much blood.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and with his other hand, and led her to the sink, allowing ice cold water to trickle over the cut, which was more severe than he first thought.

Liz cried out when the water hit her cut.”That looks gross,” she attempted humor but Ray saw that she was getting a little nervous.

“I think you’re going to need a stitch or two, Elizabeth.”

Completely in charge, he took his cell from his back pocket, his other hand holding hers under the water.

He pressed one button. “Kate, it’s me. Is Joan around? Good. Please ask her to bring her bag up here. No, it’s not me. Elizabeth has had a tiny accident. She needs stitches. Right away, thank you, Kate.”

He turned off the phone and looked at Elizabeth as he shut the water. Walking her over to the counter, he sat her down, pulled a handkerchief around her finger and threw the bloody napkins in the trash.

“Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”

He held her hand, holding tight to the fabric which was quickly turning a bright red.

“My personal physician is on the premises. She’ll  be here in a moment.” He turned her chin toward him. “Elizabeth, look at me. You’re going to be okay.”

Hearing his soothing tone made Liz feel safe, and she knew in her heart, he’d take care of her. With him holding her hand, his other arm around her waist for comfort and support, she knew she’d get through this as long as he was with her.

By the time Ray’s physician appeared, his snow white handkerchief had turned crimson.

“Ah, Joan, here you are.”

The doctor, a petite brunette in her forties approached the table. “Raymond, how is the patient?”

As she opened her medical bag, Ray never moved an inch. He held her hand, even though his palm was red with her blood. “This is my friend, Elizabeth. She was cutting melon and the knife slipped. She needs stitches and something for the pain please.”

The doctor smiled warmly at Liz. “I’m Joan Henry. Let’s take a look. May I?”

Ray kept his eyes focused on Liz, and with the greatest of care, unwrapped his bloody handkerchief from her finger and looked at her, once again comforting her. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Oh yes, you definitely need a few stitches. Not to worry. I’m going to give you something to deaden the pain, ok?”

Liz nodded as the physician began to remove materials from her bag. Ray caressed her uninjured palm while Joan injected her with a pain killer, sitting close beside her, while three stitches and clean bandages were administered to Liz’s index finger.

“I’ll have some antibiotics and pain killers delivered in the morning. In the meantime, I think you’ll be able to sleep in a little bit.”

Liz felt woozy as the pain killer slowly did its job. “Thank you.”

The doctor turned to Ray. “Let her rest and I’ll come back to change the bandage tomorrow and the stitches can come out next week.”

“I’ll change her dressing tomorrow. Just tell me what to do.”

Joan knew better than to argue with him. “Fine, don’t let her get it wet, and the shot I gave her will help with the pain.”

Dembe appeared at that moment. “Is Elizabeth alright?”

“Yes she is, Dembe. Please see Joan to the door.”

After Joan and Dembe departed, Ray helped Liz up from the chair. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m so sorry I—“

“About what?  It was a lovely dinner, Elizabeth. I’m just grateful your injury wasn’t more severe.  Now you must relax. No arguments, understand?”

She smiled at him, loving the way he held her as they walked up the stairs and to her suite. He entered with her, helped her sit on her bed, then opened her windows, watching the sheer curtains billow with the breeze. “Fresh air will help you rest.”

“Please don’t fuss over me. I’m fine, really. Just a bit woozy.”

He paused a moment, saw the burner phone that had been presented to her the day she arrived, on her night stand. He grabbed it, then programmed in a number and placed near her side of the bed. “If you are in need – of anything, just press ‘1’and I will be here.”

“How can I thank you?”

He wanted to say something, but thought against it. “No need. I’ll say goodnight Elizabeth.  By the way, the potato salad was yummy.”

She noticed that he was still wearing his silly apron. “I have to say it was an amazing barbeque Ray, aside from the blood and all,” she shrugged, and smiled weakly, but her attempt at the joke did not seem to amuse him. “Good night.”

He nodded, managed a concerned smile, turned and left.

Liz stripped off her clothes and fell into bed, exhausted from the pain medication. Within moments, she was asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ray was awake for hours, worried about her, but eventually, fell into a fitful sleep.

But his dreams were terror filled. Blood. There was blood; all there was - was blood….

_He’s in the car with Carla, it’s raining and they’re arguing – louder and louder. Carla telling him what a horrible husband he is; Raymond accusing her of adultery; their voices rising, raucous and rowdy, until Ray takes his eyes off the road as she raises her hand to strike him and by then, it’s too late…._

“NOOOO!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was in a deep sleep, yet Liz heard the cry of terror coming from Raymond’s bedroom and didn’t hesitate. Rising and grabbing her robe, she ran to the west wing, calling his name as she rushed through his suite, then sprinted to his bedroom, and approached his bed. He was thrashing and crying out, “No, don’t….”

She climbed into bed beside him, and shook his shoulder. “Ray, it’s me, Elizabeth. What’s wrong, please talk to me.” He continued to cry, proclaiming impossible fragments of conversation.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that he was naked except for the sheet that partially covered one hip. She ran to the bathroom, poured him a cup of water, then rushed back to him.

His eyes opened wide and terrified and focused on her. She caressed his face, and murmured, “Ray, you’re having a nightmare. I’m here.  It’s going to be alright.”

He nodded, attempting to focus, then swallowed hard. His breathing was rushed and sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. His facial scar was red and prominent; his lips cracked and dry. “Here, drink this.”

She lifted his trembling shoulders and helped him take a few sips. He closed his eyes in relief, then nodded and lay back down.

“Thank- thank you. I’m sorry to have awakened you.”

 “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!”

He was adamant and Liz knew it was time to go. He wasn’t ready to talk to her about his night terror. “I’ll go then --”

“--- Please, don’t leave me….please.”

She caressed his cheek and offered him a wan smile. “I won’t leave you. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“I’ll be right back.” She left him long enough to grab a wash cloth, rinse it with cool water, return to his bed, and gently wipe the sweat away, easing him with tender strokes.

As she slid the cloth across his face, their eyes met and held as he gently lifted her bandaged finger, brought it to his lips, and tenderly kissed her wound.

She lay next to him, fully aware of his nudity and the fact that she was clad in only a thin robe. She covered him fully with the sheet, while she settled on top of his bed clothes.

She was careful not to disturb him, but he wouldn’t have any of it.

“Closer – please.” He begged.

Surprisingly, he took her in his arms and they shared one pillow. He was still shaking, and Liz nearly wept from witnessing his anguish. “Shh, you can go back to sleep now.” Her whisper was barely a breath.

“You won’t go?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Within moments, comforted by her presence in his bed, in his arms, Ray allowed himself to fall back to sleep, then enjoyed dreamless slumber for the rest of the night.

 

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She was awakened by the touch of a warm, naked body beside her, a muscled leg lying across her thigh.

Liz turned toward him, lying on the same pillow, and looked into his beautiful green eyes, waiting for him to move away. He did not.

She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, and her body reacted in kind. Her nipples began to throb while her heart pounded and moistness gathered between her legs.

His eyes questioned, then waited for her to push him away, to jump from the bed. However, Liz wouldn’t move from this bed now if it were on fire. She was the one who burned...burned for him.

The sheet had fallen away from him, leaving him naked and glorious, regardless of the scars on his legs and hips. The belt of her robe had loosened during the night and it now lay wide open, revealing herself to him. She felt no shame, no inhibition as his eyes drank her in, telling her silently that he hungered for her.

“Elizabeth?”  His question begged an answer.

Her palm caressed his face and she leaned in to tenderly kiss his scar. Taking a breath, he blinked back a tear and then moved over her.

Liz’s world stopped and she focused on nothing, but him. There was nothing, except him.

“Yes.” She answered as his mouth closed over hers.

 

TBC

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Raymond and Liz grow closer, they find that life will never quite be the same.

As his weight gently pushed her into the safe haven of his silk sheets, a tingling began deep in her stomach. His mouth slowly descended on hers when her eyes drifted shut and all she could concentrate on was the supple contact of his mouth.

His tongue slid across her lower lip, then urged her mouth open, exploring, tasting. Liz wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer to what she wanted, and it was clear that she wanted him: his sensual lips, soft and warm.

His erection hardened against her as she tilted her head to gain better access to his mouth. He tasted like wine and spices, and all that she’d hoped for.

The gentle breeze blew over their nakedness as the moon rose high in the sky and gently illuminated his room. But all she could feel was him.  All she could taste was him.

He lifted his head and for precious moments; their eyes met and locked, focused, unblinking.

“More.” She whispered, watching his eyes close as she coaxed his head toward her waiting mouth once more.

He answered her request, this time by deepening the kiss, suckling her lower lip, while his hands began to roam.

Her breasts filled his large hands perfectly, nipples the color of ripe berries that pebbled when he suckled them. He caressed her globes, then softly pushed them together, making a feast of her aching breasts, until she moaned with pleasure.

He kissed his way down to her flat tummy, nipping licking devouring her.  Liz had never known such pleasure. He gave and gave, and all she wanted, was to give him all of her. _Yes, take all of me, leave nothing untouched._

It was as though he read her thoughts. His lips began a sensual journey to her navel, kissing and nipping his way down to her mound, exposing her heated flesh to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” she heard him rasp that single word as he settled between her legs, slowly opening them, then hooked them over his shoulders as he lowered his hungry mouth to her swollen folds.

Liz gasped and nearly arched off the bed as his tongue speared her, hot and insistent, while her moans of pleasure coaxed him to open her wider to his carnal assault.

His thumbs spread her lips, and his insistent tongue became a weapon for her destruction as her first sweet drops of ecstasy drizzled from her honeyed walls. He tongued her as she came for him again and again, her cries of pleasure, proved music to his ears.

Ray moved back to her, lying beside her as her breaths came quick and deep. He nestled her in his arms, and gently kissed her, wanting only to calm her, be close to her.

She turned to him, her eyes dilated with arousal, her beautiful breasts rising and falling, her hair tumbled and tangled.

“Hi.” She whispered, kissing his mouth, searching his eyes for signs of regret. She wanted only to touch him, and give him some of the pleasure he’d brought to her.

His expressive green eyes were wide and dark, his nostrils flared and he was the man who’d given her the most wonderful orgasm she’d ever enjoyed.

“Hi.” He pushed errant strands of her hair behind her ear. “Are you alright?”

“Better than alright.” She maneuvered to get closer to him. She kissed the scar that slashed his face while, at the same time, coaxing him to his back, where his erection stood straight and long, thick and hard. She began kissing his face, his nose and chin, his ears and cheeks.While he lay there, offering himself to her, she was only too happy to oblige.

Her body, still throbbing and moist from his touch, she lovingly slid her hands down his throat to the light sprinkling of hair covering his chest. She licked and suckled his flat, disc like nipples till he groaned, then followed a path down to his legs, covered in scars, aching for him and what he’d suffered in the past.

She kissed each scar she came upon, heard his aching gasp with each touch of her lips to his wounded flesh. “Beautiful.” She echoed his single word of praise from before.

She lifted her head, staring at his manhood, straight and stiff, surrounded by a dusting of light brown hair, his sack tight and high, nestled beneath his length. Slowly, deliberately, Liz took him in her hand, lowered her head and brought her tongue to the tiny slit, tasting his essence. He was magnificent.

Heat radiated through her as he shivered from her touch. Her mouth surrounded his crown, and Ray reacted, thrusting into her, slowly at first, then in concert with her mouth as she took him further in. She relaxed her throat so that she could take him all, have all of him.

He tasted like darkness, and sex and surrender.

His long, low growl empowered her when his hands gripped her hair, wrapping her strands around his wrist to hold her in place. Closing her mouth around his thick shaft, he hastened his movements, faster and harder, while she sucked and cherished him.

Her hands slid under his ass, bringing him closer as he arched and stilled, letting out a carnal roar as his cry split the night, releasing his passion into her mouth.

Breathing hard, blood rushing through his veins, hands shaking, Ray urged her to his side, and settled her on his chest. He kissed her hard, tasting himself on her swollen lips, and he knew he’d never get enough of her.

Not waiting for their breathing to return to normal, Ray brought him under him, where he savored her soft warmth.

For several moments, they chose to lay still, his body a welcome weight on her while sensations of need and hunger surrounded her. The scent of their love making invaded the room, proving an aphrodisiac for them both. Moments passed, as they lay, cradled in each other’s arms, bodies close, warm and connected. Yet Liz knew one thing only.

“I want you inside me.”

They locked eyes without blinking, when one of his strong muscled legs urged her own apart. “I want nothing more.”

She nodded as he kissed her deep and insistent, his hands on her face, then threading his fingers through her hair and holding her there. He placed quick kisses on her forehead and nose, then her cheeks and chin. “I need you, Elizabeth.”

She opened wider so he’d gain better access. “Take what you want. I’m yours.”

His eyes brimmed with unshed tears, while his throat filled with emotion. She wanted him. _Him._

His voice deepened, so low and tear filled, she strained to hear him. “Tonight, we belong to each other.”

“Yes.” She took his kiss as she welcomed him into her body with every fiber of her being.

He ached with arousal, his body on fire. He slid into her drenched opening as her legs lifted and wrapped around his ass, pushing his hips deeper into her wet channel.

His mouth traveled down to her swollen, rosy breasts, and he suckled on them, one at a time, pleasuring her, making her moan, calling out his name. She tasted sweet and sexy, and if he died in her arms at this moment, he knew life would have been worthwhile, to have had this time making love to her.

“Raymond….Ray.” Her murmurs hardened him, and he began to stroke, sliding in and out, her moist arousal clenching him, driving him on. Faster, harder, he pumped into her, thrusts becoming stronger, her body slippery and hot, all fire and flame.

Liz grabbed onto the sheets, gripping them tight, as he pistoned in and out, giving her everything she wanted, anything she needed.

“Kiss me.” He demanded, taking her mouth while he found and wound his fingers around hers, connecting them.

She answered his kisses, their arousal reaching its peak, while a light sprinkling of sweat covered them. The bed sheets tangled and hung over the bed, while pillows wound up on the floor. They couldn’t get close enough as their heated flesh cried out for something they both craved, hungered for: A need for more than just physical release .  

Her inner walls milked him while her womb contracted around him, driving him further to the edge. He buried his face beside her own as he struggled for breath. They writhed and began to fall apart, piece by piece, bodies shaking with their imminent release, before going up in flames.

Emitting a hoarse cry as his sex pulsed and clenched, Ray pumped once, twice, then stilled and arched his back, crying out as she joined him as they stepped off the precipice, together.

Lying in his arms, replete and exhausted, Liz felt him move to retrieve and cover them with a sheet.

A warm breeze ruffled the sheer curtains, drifting over them, while scents from the gardens below their window sent a bouquet of summer to the room.

Ray kissed her hair and no words were spoken as he watched her float into slumber. His gaze lingered on her as her eyes drifted shut, her dark eyelashes creating a fan on her lovely, flushing face.

He swallowed hard, as he ached with emotion. She’d given him so much more than he deserved, and he reciprocated in kind, wanting nothing more than to give her everything she hungered for.

What would he do now? His feelings for her had grown since the first day she arrived here. Had it only been merely days since she came into his home, unafraid and confident?  Determined to complete her community service without argument or debate?

Her even breathing was proof she now slept deeply and he continued to watch her, tenderly pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“What do we do now?” he whispered, knowing he’d receive no answer.

Growing tired, he settled closer to her warmth, looking over at her bandaged finger, then lifting it and placing a kiss, soft as a whisper, to her wound.

Allowing himself to finally close his eyes as sleep tugged at him, he knew that when they awakened in the morning, the world would be different, but most of all _, he_ would be different.

What would, indeed, happen when her time here was over, and she was free to leave? Now that she’d been in his house, his life…his bed, how would he ever let her go?

Questions that yet to be answered hung in the summer air as sleep claimed him at last.

 

TBC

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	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz and Ray share moments of intimacy as well as their past, while their relatonship grows and blooms.

Raymond came slowly awake to the sound of chirping birds as sunlight bathed his room, and warned him that he’d over slept.

Instinctively sliding his hand to the empty side of the bed, he frowned to realize she was gone. His eyes snapped opened, his heart sank. Was last night just a memory? A dream?  Had she really given over everything to him? 

His morning erection was indeed proof of the lusty memory that he had, indeed, enjoyed a night of love making, buried deep inside her heat, giving her everything she desired, as he took all she’d surrendered.

He was naked, bed clothes strewn all over the floor. The curtains were still, evidence that the day promised to be a stifling one.

Why had she left his bed?  Had she already regretted her time with him?

There was only one way to find out.

Rising from the bed, he slid into a pair of light gray pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt, and didn’t bother with slippers.

Then, ignoring the burning pain in his leg, he clumsily ran from the suite, in hot pursuit of Elizabeth.

 

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He was practically breathless when he approached the east wing and heard the distant sounds of a crooning Frank Sinatra and the big band accompanying him to ‘come fly with me.’

She was in her room; _thank goodness_ , he thought.

He knocked on her door with a shaky hand, but received no answer.

He dared to turn the knob and was visibly relieved that it opened easily.

“Elizabeth?” he looked around as he walked deeper into her suite, then found himself in front of her bathroom door.

Before he could knock, it opened wide, nearly causing a collision as they nearly fell into each other.

“Oh, Ray, good morning!” she said cheerily, her only covering, a fluffy towel wrapped around her, the ends tucked between her lovely breasts.

“Why did you leave?” He was relieved to see those dimples, that seductive smile, that beautiful body shrouded in that bothersome towel.

She angled her head to the side, and winked at him. “I didn’t want to wake you.” She explained. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Her thoughtfulness touched his heart. “Oh, I’ll be going then.”

She smiled and grabbed his arm. “Don’t go.”  She smiled up at him, then grabbed his arm. “Shower with me,” she coyly seduced. “You wash my back; I’ll wash yours. Unless you’ve already done so.”

“Uh , no I haven’t.”

“Good. Look, I’ve even covered my cut with plastic wrap, so I don’t have to worry about getting it wet.”

Her shower was running and the room was starting to fog. Liz pulled him further in, then stood back from him, removed her towel, and waited.

She was waiting for him to make a move, and he didn’t hesitate.

With a speed he didn’t know he possessed, he pulled his shirt up and off, threw it across the room, then dropped his pants, revealing the erection that ached more with every passing moment.

Liz grew impatient, but didn’t have to wait long as Ray lifted and carried her into the shower stall and under the cool silver spray.

 

 

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Before Ray could make a move, Liz grabbed a soft wash cloth, drizzled gel onto it, then rubbed the soap into the threads.

“Turn around,” she softly demanded. “I want to wash your back.”

Ray nearly panicked. He’d made certain that even in the midst of their love making last night, he’d made sure she hadn’t seen the hideous scars that covered his entire back. “Elizabeth, no, you don’t have to – please.”

But he was no match for her determined motivation. “Turn around, or I’ll have to get tough with you.”

Searching her eyes, he saw no pity, no sympathy in those glorious blue orbs. Only a need to touch him. Humbled by her beautiful, brave nature, he nodded slightly, turned around, placed his hands on the tiles, then gave himself over to her care.

Liz lovingly, carefully, and with a tender touch, slid the cloth over his back. A road map of bumps and valleys, she nearly wept when she thought of what horrors must have befallen him at the time of the accident to cause such significant wounds. 

Sliding the fabric further down his body, she squeezed the soapy cloth over his beautifully shaped ass, and further to his legs, straight and well muscled, also covered with a myriad of discolored marks.  Yet to Liz, he was beautiful, strong, a creature who’d been involved in a horrible experience, and had emerged a magnificent beast.

 

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He was aching for her, his erection long and hard and needing satisfaction.

“That’s enough.” He nearly roared, as he switched positions with her. “I need to look at you, touch you, Elizabeth.”

“Yes.”  She dropped the cloth. “Touch me.”

As the spray rained down, Ray wasted no time and lifted her as if she were weightless and pushed her against the tiles. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did as he said. As if their lives depended on it, he slid his large palms under her ass, and pushed into her, as she threw her head back and cried out in pleasure. “Yes, Ray, don’t hold back. I need you, closer.”

He joined her cries as he buried himself to the hilt inside her waiting heat. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard and eager, both of them aching to be part of the other.

Red began to thrust, in and out, while Liz kissed him over and over, their tongues playing and darting, while streaming bullets of water washed over them, the sounds of their cries cloaked by the sprays of liquid.

He couldn’t get enough of her. She couldn’t give enough to him.

He trailed his lips to her breasts, suckling and nipping, drinking the dripping water from her erect nipples, making her cry and squirm as he pistoned his hips into her.

“Hurry,” she cried, as she rose higher, taking him with her.

She was close, contracting around him; his legs shook from his arousal yet he possessed a primal need to take her all the way.

And take her, he did. Together they exploded, their hearts pounding with profound passion, as she cried out his name, and he followed in kind.

When they slid down together onto the tiles, he reached up and shut off the water, then gathered her in his arms, where she kissed him deep and hungry.

Their eyes met, and locked and her sexy smile touched something deep inside him. He tried to speak, but she placed a finger on his lips. She was right; no words were needed right now.

And that’s when the reality of the situation hit him: with rock hard intensity, sure as the rising sun.

Something was happening. Since losing Carla he’d vowed that he would allow no one to get close to him-- ever. No one would be hurt again, because of him.

Yet, he’d foolishly allowed this woman, this breath of summer, into his life, his heart….his being.

_What have I done?_

Instead of thinking of possibilities, all he could sense was a feeling of dread, of panic. The day would come when she’d be gone, and he’d be alone again.

Nevertheless, with these dark thoughts of living without her a certainty, he couldn’t help but look at her and allow a spark of something to penetrate his cold, empty heart.

 _Hope_.

They stepped from the stall, and wrapped each other in thick, fluffy towels. Ray decided, for just a while, to allow her sunlight to burst through his darkness, for her laughter to dry his tears, for the beauty in her heart, to forsake his scars.

Just for a while.

 

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They parted only long enough to dress in their own suites, then agreed to meet in the air conditioned sun room for breakfast.

As always, Elizabeth brought the sunshine with her to the table. Dressed in aqua cotton shorts, and a lemon yellow t-shirt, her tan leather flip flops made clicking noises on the ceramic tile as she slid open the door to the glass enclosed room that faced an particular area of wild flowers.

Red had already set the table, setting down a platter of bacon and scrambled eggs, along with orange juice and coffee. Elizabeth carried a floral glass bowl filled with cubed watermelon, cantaloupe and honeydew. Ray hadn’t allowed her to cut any more fruit, so he’d carved the sweet treats the night before.

She’d allowed him to re-dress her cut after their shower, and he noticed with satisfaction that it was healing well.

He’d kissed her wound after bandaging it, and she’d kissed his mouth in thanks.

Popping a chunk of honeydew in her mouth, she watched Ray grab a slice of bacon, pulling it apart, but not eating it.

“What’s wrong?” She slid her hand across the glass table to cover his.

He managed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing.”  He lied.

She took a sip of juice, but noticed he still hadn’t touched his food. “The fruit is very sweet; you’ll enjoy it.” She urged him.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”

“Come on, just one bite?”

He dropped the uneaten bacon onto his plate. “Elizabeth.” His tone was soft, but filled with something she couldn’t name. “You must know that since last night and this morning, nothing will be the same again, for me.”

She squeezed his hand harder to make her point. “I don’t know what you’re getting at here, but you have to know that I like you and what happened between us is very special, you do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” His voice was deep and emotion filled. “I know.”

Liz wished to lighten the mood. She didn’t like to see him in pain, and wanted only to prove to him that what they shared meant more to her than anything she’d ever felt in her life. But he wasn’t prepared to hear it – yet.

“Good.” She took a sip of coffee, then poured him a cup. “Please eat. I won’t be able to work and get through my day if I know you didn’t have breakfast okay?”

“It’s Saturday.” He announced as if she’d committed a crime.

She shrugged, then lifted two slices of bacon from the platter and put them on her plate. Enjoying mind blowing sex with this man certainly did give her an appetite.

“Doesn’t matter, Ray. I was sent here to work off my community service. Please let me continue to do my chores for the time I have left here?  I need to do this. It gives me purpose.”

He adored her sense of responsibility and tenaciousness. In mere seconds she seemingly could laugh and joke, then change her tune to serious and motivated. He was completely mesmerized by her.

Her eyes bore into his, telling him she would not debate the subject, and he admired her for her convictions.

He nodded. “Do what you must. You’ll get no more arguments from me.”

She nodded, and seconds later, she spied him filling his plate with eggs, and melon, picking up his fork, and finally, enjoying his meal.

 

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Surprisingly, he completed the blueprints that he’d struggled with since her arrival almost two weeks ago.

Needing to stretch his legs, he rose from the chair and craned his neck back and forth, paying no mind to the burn in his leg today.

He experienced lightness in his soul for the first time in years.

Glaring at his watch, he realized he’d worked through lunch and it was now after two. What was she doing?

He set out to go downstairs, and he looked forward to seeing her.

After talking with Dembe, who told him that Elizabeth was probably in the library, dusting and vacuuming. It was there that he eventually found her.

She had changed her clothes and was now clad in worn, frayed denim shorts and a bubble gum pink tank top that had seen better days.

Perched precariously on the top step of a seven foot ladder, dusting the chandelier crystals, Ray grew worried for her safety. To make matters worse, she wore neon orange ear buds, seemingly oblivious to all around her. She was singing something about a ‘wicked game’.

He would have laughed if he hadn’t been scared to death that any second she’d fall and break her neck.

“Elizabeth!”

She turned toward him, and she sent him a broad smile, pulling the buds from her ears. “Hi, is it lunchtime already?  Would you like a nice summer salad? I—“

As Ray began to object and tell her not to rush, she began to fairly fly down the ladder and lost her footing, while Ray looked on in horror. Luckily, his instincts kicked in and he caught her just before she would have hit the marble floor, hard.

“Oomph.”  He reacted quickly and within a second, had his arms filled with a very lovely Liz.

Liz turned in his arms, and both of them broke out in silly laughter. Ray couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard.

“You could have broken your neck, so no more ladders for you, young lady.”

_Don’t waste your breath; she won’t listen to you anyway._

“But you were right here, saving me. You’re my hero.”

“A hero who is very hungry.”

She loved being in his arms. “How does a nice cool summer tuna and egg salad sound?”

He agreed. “Why don’t we pack up a picnic lunch and eat it by the pool?”

“But I have work to finish.” She was serious.

“But I’m the boss. You can make it up on Monday.” It was not a request.

She didn’t want to seem like she was taking advantage of their situation. “Ray, you don’t have to do this. I work here, remember?”

Reluctantly, he let her go, as she slid down the length of his body. Suddenly, he just wanted to take her back to bed, and make love to her the rest of the day, into tomorrow, and maybe the next.

Yet he held onto her, put his arms around her. “It’s hot as blazes, so I suggest we get our suits, make the salads, then head on down to the pool and spend the rest of the day cooling off.”

She didn’t dare oppose him. She was too happy that he’d suggested a leisurely day together. The man worked too much. “Sounds wonderful;  I’ll make fresh lemonade.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile, and her heart burst with joy for him.

 

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The afternoon flew by, despite the fact that Ray could still see the image of her nearly breaking her neck when she descended that damned ladder.

Now she was with him, on adjoining chaise lounges, having played and swam in the cooling water of the pool through the hottest part of the day. A huge green and white striped umbrella sheltered them from the hot summer sun and they drank tall ice-filled glasses of fresh lemonade that she’d made.

She wore a robin’s-egg blue one piece bathing suit that outlined every curve in that luscious body of hers. A huge brimmed straw sun hat protected her head and big, square sunglasses covered those glorious blue eyes.  He’d worn his own sunglasses, as he couldn’t see a foot in front of him without the prescription lenses.

He longed to make love to her again, but would never compromise her publicly out here. Not when anyone could appear at any moment, be it Kate, Dembe or anyone else on the household staff.

So she pushed their lounges together, and they lay quiet and peaceful until time stopped.

Eventually, Elizabeth stirred, then placed her glass down on a nearby circular glass table.

“What are you thinking?”

His hands clasped on his stomach, his legs crossed at the ankles, he was nearly too drowsy to answer. He hadn’t known serenity like this existed. Since she’d come into his life, he’d changed. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her his innermost secrets.   

“About how much I want you, your smile, your body.  I’m thinking about the way your breasts fit perfectly in my hands, the manner in which your mouth is soft and warm, your kisses, exquisite and giving.  My thoughts are filled with how perfect we fit together, how you surrender yourself to me without reservation, with no inhibition, and how humbled I am to be able to give you a part of me that I haven’t shared with another woman in a long, long time.”

Elizabeth took off her sunglasses, then reached over and removed his. She needed to look into his eyes. “I’m glad you realize that, Ray. I want you to know that the only man I’ve ever made love with was my husband. What you and I shared was special, and I want to know more about you. I hope you can let me in, Ray. If you ever need or want to share more, I want to hear it.”

He reached for her hand, kissed her knuckles, then rubbed his thumb over the warm place where his mouth touched.  “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

When she returned his smile, they sat for several moments, and just when Elizabeth thought he would say no more, he rose from the chaise.

She looked up at him when he reached out his hand for her.

“Walk with me through the gardens?”

She nodded and rose, her heart was light and filled with him, allowing him to help her with her cover up. She left her hat on the chair, then handed him his glasses, while she placed her own over her eyes.

They left the pool area and strolled lazily, hand in hand, to a particular area where roses reigned in every color she could possibly imagine, and a few she didn’t know existed.

Just when she thought he’d remain quiet for the rest of their silent sojourn, he stopped, squeezed her hand, then turned to face her.

“I want to tell you why I suffer from night terrors,” he told her, feeling her free hand touch his face in a soothing gesture. “I’m ready to discuss all that happened the night of the accident, ten years ago…..”

“I’m listening.”

 

TBC

 

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	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray re-lives past horrific events to Elizabeth, then reveals his deepest desires to her.

Ray led her toward a stone bench, where it appeared she stepped into an ocean of rose bushes.

Honey bees and butterflies enjoyed their fill, while the heavenly scent filled Liz. _I think I could live here forever._

They sat, their thighs touching; Liz grabbed his hand and held on.

“Talk to me.”

He nodded, gathered his thoughts. “I met Carla when I was still in the Navy, many years ago,” he began, his voice deep and steady. Liz sat, still and attentive, and said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“Our fathers were close friends, and they’d been wanting for us to meet for the longest time. So one night, I asked her out for a drink. We found we had much in common: we both loved the water, gardening, and jazz.

“Well, after a few months of dating, we became engaged. Carla pushed it and I agreed. I was lonely, living the military life, and needed to settle down. I loved her, in my way, I suppose. She was lovely, intelligent and predictable. I sensed that she’d make a perfect wife.”

“Did she make you happy?” Liz asked quietly.

He took more than a moment to answer. “No.” He shook his head. “But that was more my fault than hers. After a time, I began taking her for granted. I drank a little more, and the as the years passed, with no children to fill the house, the more indifferent and neglectful I became.”

“Stop blaming yourself.” Liz insisted.

“I am to blame, Elizabeth. She was not happy, and I did nothing to forge some small semblance of  contentment. I never went out of my way to please her. Once I knew there would be no children, I began to blame her for everything and anything. We separated for a time, but my guilt caused me to ask her to reconcile. It was a mistake. We should have stayed apart.

“So, in the end, she took a lover; I couldn’t blame her, all the while hating her for finding happiness elsewhere. The guilt began to eat at me, like a cancer. I drank more, worked longer hours, all so I didn’t have to see her hate for me in her eyes.”

Liz cleared her throat, choking back tears for him. “I’m sorry. What happened that night?"

He swallowed hard and stared at a point beyond her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he told her of that night.

“We’d been arguing all day, and finally, we seemed to have reached an impasse. I found her packing and confronted her. But I didn’t need to hear the words to know that she’d found someone else and was leaving me.

"I guess my male pride was wounded, so I calmed a bit, and asked her to take a drive with me. Maybe we could ‘work it out.’ But it wasn’t to be. She agreed to the drive and to this day I wonder why she got into the car with me. Maybe, I thought, she’d re-think her plan and stay. Although we both knew that it was over.”

Ray now focused his gaze on Liz, as if gathering strength from her understanding, warm blue eyes.

“We had just passed the edge of the property, when something told me to admonish her for leaving me. I raised my voice and began to verbally attack her, while thinking my tirade would make her stay. Of course that was a big mistake. She’d been drinking that day, and surprisingly, I was sober, although I was given a breathalyzer test after the car crashed.”

Liz tightened her grip on his hand, as she let him go on.

"I still think about the decision I made at that moment. I’d turned on to a dark dirt road that I knew well in the daylight, but it was now full dark with no moonlight.”

Now he took Liz’s other hand and entwined his fingers with hers; maybe for strength to tell her what happened next. 

“Elizabeth, maybe I wanted to kill us both.”

A gentle breeze lifted Liz’s hair from her shoulders, and Ray smoothed it back, managing a sad smile.

“Carla began railing at me, the alcohol obviously now taking over.”  _“What are you doing_?  _Where are you going?_ _It’s too dark. What do you hope to gain here, Raymond?  I think this is a bad idea. Take me back to the house. I need to finish packing.  You have to understand, I don't love you anymore. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”_

“She tried to grab the wheel from me and I swerved, and for the moment, we were fine. I’d now realized this had been a bad idea from the start, and only wanted to turn around and return home, let her go, and drink myself into a stupor.”

Before Liz could speak, Ray’s eyes went dark with sadness, reliving the horrific events of that fateful night. 

“I tried to find a place to turn the car around, but it was too dark, and too late. Carla raised her hand to slap me, and my vision was obstructed. And at the moment I grabbed her hand to push it away, the car swerved, and dove into a ditch, rolled over twice. We were trapped in our seats, our belts trapping us, upside down.”

Tears welled in Liz’s eyes and threatened to fall as she allowed him to finish, all the while, dying a little inside for him.

His voice broke. “There was blood everywhere; everywhere all there was, was blood.  The windows had shattered and glass cut and pierced us, everywhere. She was killed instantly, and all I could think was, _‘life is so cruel; it should be me. Why am I still alive, and she is not?’_

“Don’t say that, Ray,” Liz cried softly. “Please don’t say that.”

But he just bowed his head and shook it. “It was done. Over. She was gone. And I was left to pick up the pieces of a shattered marriage. She deserved better, Elizabeth; better than me.”

“You’re wrong, Ray. You are. You didn’t know what would happen. You have to try and live now. It’s been so many years. Please?”

His eyes were red with unshed tears. But he didn’t pull away from her.

He wore his guilt filled heart like a mantle, and her heart crushed as she shouldered the weight of her pain for him. It was such a beautiful place, here, and she was so happy that he’d chosen to tell her about Carla. No one in this world deserved to be happy more than him. She kept silent, knowing there was more he wanted to say, and she didn’t wish to interrupt him.

“I created the gardens so there would be something beautiful here, to make her last resting place less morbid, less sad. In the end, she hated me, and I can’t blame her. I resented her for having an affair, but I never hated her. I tried, and I failed. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“It wont, Ray. Listen to me.” Her voice deepened, drawing his attention. “You deserve more. I care about you, do you hear me?”

He shook his head, but she was adamant. “You just have to deal with that fact, okay?”

He didn’t answer, only reached out to tuck that pesky strand of hair from her face. He then focused on a distant point over her shoulder and became quiet for long moments. Elizabeth guessed that he constantly fought his inner conflicts.

He focused on her once more, then sighed. “Last night…being with you….sharing everything with you.”  He bit the inside of his cheek. “I confess that I don't have the strength or will to stay away from you, Elizabeth. I want you, want you in my bed every night until ….” He was unable to finish his thought.

“Until I leave?”

He nodded. “Now that I’ve fallen asleep beside you, felt your soft warmth, tasted your heat, heard your gentle breathing, I don’t want to be without you anymore. I don’t know how.”

“And you won’t have to.”

She leaned forward, practically falling into his arms. He answered by holding her tight, closing his eyes and drawing his hand through her waves, inhaling her intoxicating scent, and relishing the softness he found there.

They came together for a kiss that sealed their inner desire, not knowing what the future held for them.

But for the present, and whatever time was left, they’d be together.

For the remainder of the afternoon, they held hands because they needed to touch, savoring each other’s company, enjoying the garden, while their whispers drifted through the summer breeze and dissolved within the spectacle of all that surrounded them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Liz and Ray grow closer, so does the day of her freedom ~~~~ Choices and decisions must be made ~~~ but to what end?

Things changed dramatically between them after those precious moments in the garden.

From that night forward, Liz spent every night in his arms, loving him, healing him, surrendering all she was, all she had, welcoming him into her body, savoring their moments together.

The night of the accident was never again discussed. There was no need. Ray limited his visits to Carla’s grave to the weekends, but it was different.

Liz accompanied him every time. She’d arrange a gorgeous bouquet of flowers to place at her grave, and together, hand in hand, she and Ray would say a silent prayer. Liz hoped that after all these years he’d begun to forgive himself for all the guilt and pain he’d been dealt because of that terrible night.

Every morning they’d take a walk through the roses, gathering bouquets in baskets, so that Liz could fill the house with their sweet summer fragrance.

After dinner every night, they’d go to the library and read to each other, sometimes they’d slow dance on the terrace complete with candle light and slow jazz playing on the stereo.

And every night, without fail, and wrapped in each other’s arms, they made love in Ray’s bed; sometimes slow and lazy, other times, desperate and lusty, then fell asleep in each other’s arms, with only the warmth of each other covering them. And without thinking of the minutes that passed, the date or time ticking away until Elizabeth’s imminent freedom, they grew closer.

So without caution or rules, they allowed their emotions to guide them along a path of no return - and without words, they fell.

Fell deeply, irrevocably, completely in love.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

On one particular steamy August night, they decided to go for a swim.

Ray and Liz had imbibed several pina coladas after dinner, so by the time they arrived at the pool, they were feeling particularly buzzed and quite uninhibited.

Liz had never seen him a tiny bit drunk, but she reveled in these enjoyable moments with him as he dropped his serious façade for a time, and lightened up.

Arriving at the pool area close to midnight, the only glow to be found were the underwater lights that illuminated the pool. It was warm and cloudy, with no moon to be found, and hardly a breeze.

Reaching the chaise lounges, they simply stared at each other and smiled. They both knew what they wanted, what they craved: and that was each other. So without hesitation, they did away with their clothes, and dove into the inviting cool water, only wanting to play and be close to the other.

With the knowledge that Ray had been in the Navy, Liz watched him swim and dive like a fish. He was completely unaware of how beautiful he was.

She realized that the only way he’d swim naked was the obvious fact that the alcohol he’d imbibed had somehow eased the awareness of his scars. For Liz, the evidence of those scars only made him sexier, and more irresistible.

She dove in, reveling in the refreshing water, and made her way to the deeper end of the pool where he surfaced, while she stared at him, as her heart drummed in her chest.

He made his way toward her and goose bumps rose on her arms, knowing his purpose. Swimming in the nude was a new experience for Liz, and she wanted him so deeply, she ached with the thought of having him, taking him in the water.

His arms were corded and tight as he began to tread water. Then he was inches from her, his arm hugging the side of the pool, facing her, bodies inches apart.

His eyes were dark and dangerous. _Did he realize how handsome he was?_ And that scar piercing the side of his face only made him more attractive in her eyes. She wanted him, as he wanted her.

Finally, their bodies touched, all wet and slippery, Ray’s impressive erection pressing into her as their breathing grew labored with arousal.

His arm circled her waist and his mouth touched hers, lightly at first, then deeper. She curled her arms around him as his kisses grew in intensity. “Be with me.” He uttered between kisses, his body pressing closer to hers.

“Yes, I want that too.” She opened her legs as her arm gripped the edge of the pool. He groaned as she pushed into him and drew his ass closer to her until they were bound together. Their chests pressed together, so wet, covered in cool droplets, making their connection intensify with every move they made.

His eyes bore into hers, nostrils flaring, green eyes darkening with lust and emotion, as he let go and allowed them both to slowly descend to the deeper depths.

They kissed as they sank, falling, floating, flying, their bodies entangled. Both were excellent swimmers with strong legs, so when they reached the bottom, they used their muscled limbs to propel themselves back to the surface, still connected, their mouths fused together in a dreamy kiss.

It served as a surreal experience and as they reached the surface and again, each used an arm to hold on to the edge of the pool, his body still inside her own..

With one hand gripping her ass, his pulsing length began the act of love, pushing her hips closer into his thick arousal.

“Yes, Elizabeth, feel me, feel what we are together.” He whispered, relishing the strength of her legs wrapped tightly around his hips.

“I feel everything, Ray,” she kissed him, then kissed him again as his hips strained inside her slippery heat over and over. The heaviness of the water only served to slow down their movements, yet intensifying them. 

“Feel how much I want you.” His breathing quickened, as his mouth slid down to her breasts, suckling and nipping, drinking her in. “Go over with me, sweetheart. Let go.”

“Say you want me Ray. Say it.” She demanded, then threw her head back and cried as pleasure bombarded her. “Tell me you’ll always want me.”

“Yes, yes,” was all he could manage as his cries matched her own. His body stilled, his blood raced, his heart exploded with emotion.

His lips found hers once more, and he devoured her mouth as her body responded to him. She repeated his name over and over, as they let themselves surrender to the crashing waves of passion that threatened to drown them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The weeks flew by as if in a dream. Neither of them had looked at a calendar, at the date. Ray brought her in his work room, showed her what he was working on; teaching her his blue prints and how he created building and properties.

Liz would lend him her iPod, and they'd laugh when she would catch him singing along to the music she loved.

One night a summer thunder storm raged as they danced on the terrace, holding each other tight, moving until they were soaked to the skin. That was the first time Liz led him to her own bed, where they closed the sheer curtains over her four poster, and made love to the crash of a tempest, crying out with pleasure and passion until they belonged only to the rain, the night and each other, until they fell asleep in each other's arms, while the lightning outside the window illuminated their sated bodies.  

Maybe they’d been in denial, Liz thought, but looking back at the day Kate arrived and burst their blissful bubble, she’d been happier here and with this man than she’d ever been in her entire life.

Both knew only that it was coming upon Labor Day, the first week of September and that meant only one thing:  Elizabeth’s community service was quickly and with cruel realization, coming to an end.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It wasn’t until that fateful morning, that Kate Kaplan entered the house, and found both her employer, and her client, engaged in a sound she’d not witnessed in years from Raymond Reddington: The joyful sounds of laughter, blissful, buoyant, almost boyish.

And Kate Kaplan smiled.

But her smile soon disappeared when her thoughts turned to the reason she was here, and that was to tell Elizabeth that she was free.

Free to leave, to go and leave this place. To leave Raymond.

And suddenly Kate felt bereft when she thought of the things she must say to both of these people who had found each other at this most inopportune time of their lives.

She found them on the terrace, sharing breakfast. They hadn’t noticed her presence, so she dared to observe their joyful interlude.

They sat across from each other, Elizabeth with a platter of French toast and bacon, Raymond, a plate of ham. scrambled eggs and toast. Each drank from their own mug of coffee, while engaging in light conversation.

Without taking their eyes from each other, and with a sort of second nature regarding their movements, Elizabeth handed Ray a slice of her bacon, while Raymond shared his ham, placing a bite of the smoked meat on his fork, and fed her.

He slid a small glass pitcher of maple syrup near her plate, while she handed him the salt and pepper for his eggs.

At that moment, Kate felt as if she were intruding on a moment so intimate, so personal, it was as if she were watching two people making love.

And she was.

And now, she would break their hearts.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Good morning.” Kate still felt like a voyeur as she stepped onto the terrace.

They both turned to her, as if surprised to see her there. Ray frowned as if annoyed by her intrusion.

“Hi Kate!” Liz rose from her chair and hugged her friend.

“What brings you here so early?”  Raymond asked sternly, rising from his chair and offering her a seat. “Coffee?”

Guilt and sadness filled her as she refused his offer of breakfast. “No, thank you. I’ve actually come to talk to Elizabeth.”

And it was at that moment that both Raymond and Liz exchanged glances, knowing exactly why Kate had arrived here on such a seemingly perfect day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ray remained standing, unsure of what to do, so he focused on Kate. All of a sudden he felt sick to his stomach.

How did he not notice the days passing them by?  How could he not know that this day would come?  Did he honestly think if he just ignored the minutes and hours ticking by, that today would simply never come?

Elizabeth was free.

She’d leave this place, the gardens, the library.

And him. She’d be leaving him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn to him, and she saw the change in him the instant Kate entered the room.

He knew.

She’d known that today was the last of her community service, but didn’t want to ruin their breakfast. The past few weeks had been like a dream: perfect, romantic, almost surreal in its simplicity.

Elizabeth may have feared and even denied that this day would come, but it was here.

And deep in her heart of hearts only one thing was for sure: she didn’t want to leave him.

She loved him.

The three of them looked one, to the other, each of them not knowing what to say.

It was as though the first one to speak would say something that could never be taken back.

But one of them had to say….something.

It was Kate to chose to break the ice, much to her chagrin. “I guess you know why I’m here, Elizabeth. Your community service is ended, and you can leave and go home any time you please. The judge has signed your release papers, and you are free to go.”

Liz looked at Ray, who hadn’t moved from his place at the table, standing stoic and tall, as if frozen in place.

 _Say something,_ Liz silently begged _. Tell Kate that you want me to stay….forever._

But Ray said nothing. He simply turned on his heel, and walked from the room.

Liz choked back tears, but feigned a weak smile for Kate. “That’s wonderful, Kate. I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me.  Because of you, I was brought here, and managed to fall in love with……this house. Because of Ray’s kindness, this community service was more of an adventure rather than a sentence. I’ll never be able to repay you and Raymond.”

Before Kate could answer, Liz excused herself, rose from the table and ran from the room so Kate would not be witness to her tears.

Kate sank into a nearby chair, covered her face in her hands, and for the first time in many years, silently wept for two souls who deserved happiness, but sadly, would never have what they craved most.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liz knew better than to bother Ray. She knew he was in his office, because his door was closed to her.

He hadn’t closed any doors in the house since they’d become intimate.  Now he was literally and figuratively, shutting her out.

 _I’ll give him time,_ she thought _. Once he realizes how I feel about him, how we feel about each other, he’ll come around and ask me to stay._

But two hours later, his door was still closed and Liz became worried. It was clear by the time mid afternoon came and went that he wasn’t going to talk to her.

So she did what any woman in love would do.

She went to him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By dinner time, she found herself in front of his door, and knocked twice. “Ray, let me in.”

No reply.

Another knock, more insistent this time. “I know you’re in there. No use in ignoring me. I’m not going away.”

Endless seconds that felt like hours passed. Finally, she heard the lock click on the other side of his door. He didn’t open it, so she took the initiative. She turned the knob and entered his suite. He was standing by the window in his living room, his back to her, a tumbler of what she assumed was scotch, dangling from his fingers. He was barefoot, clad in his signature khakis, and a snow white t-shirt.

She swallowed hard, clenched her hands at her sides to control the trembling in her fingers. He was hurting, and it would take much to convince him to let her stay.

“Talk to me.”

He didn’t turn to face her. Took a long swallow of liquor, and continued to stare out the window. “We both knew this day would come. You’re free, Elizabeth. Your time here has come to its conclusion. As soon as you’re packed and ready, Dembe will take you wherever you wish to go.”

“Look at me, please. You’re being rude.”

Slowly, painfully, as if in slow motion, he turned to face her.

His eyes told her that he was, in a word, bereft. Her heart shattered in tiny pieces as he swallowed the last of his scotch. Instead of placing the glass on a nearby table, he just let it slip from his fingers and onto the floor, where it shattered, yet ignored by both of them.

His arms fanned out to his sides. “What do you want me to say, Elizabeth? It’s been a wonderful six weeks?  Shall I thank you for sharing my bed and chasing the night terrors away?  Do you want me to beg you to stay, when I know you have a life of wonderful potential and much success waiting for you out there?”

He was resisting, still thinking he didn’t deserve her.

“Yes, to all those questions.”

His eyes widened, obviously not expecting her answer. But he shook his head. “I’m very fond of you, Elizabeth, but it’s time to go.”

He was really letting her go, allowing her to walk away, giving her the opportunity to leave him forever.

“Don’t you want me, Ray? I thought, that day in the garden, when you confided in me about the accident, that we –“

“—That you thought something could become of all this?”

“Honestly? Yes, I did.”  Liz didn’t like where this conversation was going. She grew impatient and rather angry as she pushed the sadness away for the moment. He loved her, she knew he loved her. But he was being impossible and her inner rage was masking the destruction of her heart.

He rubbed his hand over his head in a pained gesture that Liz recognized. “You have to leave Elizabeth. Today.  Now.”

“So that’s it? Goodbye and good luck? Are you serious? Do you think this has ever happened to me before?” Liz stepped closer to him, and grabbed his arms, while he stood still as stone.

“Raymond—I love – I love you.”

His eyes grew dark and moist, but he didn’t relent. “Look at me!” he raged. “Do you honestly want to be with someone like me?  I killed my wife; she didn’t deserve that. And neither do you. You deserve more than I could give you. I’ll never forget you, Elizabeth. You have given me so much, but you need to go. I can’t do this. We can never be happy. It would never work.”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you actually believe the words you’re saying, Ray? When will you stop pushing me away?  That accident happened years ago! And it wasn’t your fault!  When will you realize that not all the sins of the world are your fault?  Must you take possession of all the pain in the world and shoulder it as your own?  You brought me here because of your good, caring heart. You didn’t even know me, and yet you gave me a place to stay, knowing I was a thief! You didn’t have to do that. But maybe because you owed Glen a favor, you chose to consume my sin as well.”

Whether it was because she was on a tirade, or whether he was really listening and understanding her words, she couldn’t know.  But she wasn’t leaving without a fight. And fight for him, she would.

“You know you love me, so please listen to me!  Remember the day you wiped that crumb from my mouth?  The night you left those lovely first editions at my door?  When you caught me as I fell off the ladder?  And how about the way we fit together when we make love?  Are you willing to throw all that away because of the guilt that you carry around with you like an anchor that sinks to the bottom of your soul?

“You deserve love, Raymond Reddington; you deserve my love and you know it, but somewhere in that stubborn, hard head of yours, you’ve convinced yourself that you could go so far, but no farther. I’m here. I’m yours. All you have to do is say the words.  I love you, Liz, or Elizabeth or whatever you want to call me!”

“When will you stop hiding behind those scars?  I love you. You!  I don’t care about your goddamned scars, so stop using them as an excuse to scare me away. In case you haven’t noticed, I do not scare easily. Don’t deny what you feel for me.  How long, Ray?  How long have you loved me?” 

His voice, when he answered her was barely discernible. But for Liz, it was as though he’d screamed it to the heavens. “It's time to go. Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

 _No, this can’t be happening,_ she thought.

He turned his back on her once more to stare out the window at nothing, and she knew, for now, that arguing with him was fruitless.

Barely able to walk, think or feel, she turned and left his suite, then returned to her own room to pack, the pain in her heart crushing her until she found it hard to breathe. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other, all the while reciting a silent mantra…..

_He’ll stop me before I leave. He will. He will. He'll come for me. He will. He will._

He never did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Liz are miserable without each other; who will make the first move to attempt a reconciliation?

 

_“….Loneliness is like starvation; you don’t realize how hungry you are until you begin to eat…”   Joyce Carol Oates_

An hour later, still standing by his window, holding another tumbler of scotch in his hand, he watched as his heart walked out of his house, out of his life.

Liz looked up, and knew he saw her. She hesitated for a moment, waiting one last hopeful second, praying he’d stop her. When he didn’t, she climbed into the back seat of the town car. Dembe closed it behind her, but not before glaring up at Ray as well, simply shaking his head.

Nearly numb by now from drink and loss, he swallowed another portion of scotch as his tear filled eyes never lifted from the car until it disappeared from sight.

Ray’s body shuddered, until he finally turned from the window. His leg burned as if someone put a torch to it. He welcomed the pain, deserved it, craved it.

With the knowledge that no one could hear or see him, he allowed a strangled sob to escape his throat then stumbled over a lamp, knocking it to the floor and shattering it.  Ignoring the mess, he sank into a club chair, and drank until he passed out.

When he awakened, he was dazed, not realizing how many hours had passed since slumping in that chair.

His head pounded as though dozens of jack hammers had taken up residence there. He barely ambled to the bathroom, then emptied the contents of his stomach, retching until there was nothing left.

Sitting on the cold tiles, his head over the toilet, he only wished to be numb, to feel nothing, because he couldn’t survive for long with what he was feeling right now.

He struggled to gain his footing, ignored the burn in his leg, and made it to the shower, running the cold water full blast, then stripped.

Grabbing the corner of the tile wall, he stepped under the frigid spray and finally let go, crying out for Elizabeth, his tears turning as cold as the water that beat mercilessly down on him.

He’d done the right thing; he’d sent her away. It was done. Now he must live with that decision, no matter how much it hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Dembe left her at her apartment, Liz held back the tears until she shoved open the front door, dropped her luggage, and ran to her bed.

Practically falling onto the mattress, she grabbed her pillow and sobbed into the softness, allowing her tears to fall unheeded.

He’d sent her away, stubborn man. No matter how many times she told him she loved him, he wouldn’t listen, still holding onto his mistaken belief that he wasn’t deserving of her love.

Right now her heart was too crushed to think. But she wasn’t giving up. They would be together – of that she was sure.

In the meantime, she wept until exhaustion ruled. She undressed, crawled under her cool cotton sheets and wept until slumber took her, with Ray’s beautiful face the last thing on her mind. She could still hear his cries of pleasure as he buried himself deep within her, still see his expressive green eyes darkening with arousal whenever they made love.  Still feel the weight of his body on hers as she welcomed him into her heat, loving him, giving him all she had, all she was.

He was under the mistaken delusion that he didn’t deserve her. But Liz knew that he was worthy of her love. But if it took her a lifetime, she’d make him see that.

With that thought in place, she fell into a tear-filled slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through a foggy haze, Ray heard Dembe’s voice and mentally pushed him away, ignoring his friend.

“Raymond, wake up. It’s time to get up now.”

 Ray’s voice was slurred and raspy. “Go away.”

Dembe placed the huge mug of strong, black coffee on the bedside table, ignored the broken lamp, then threw open the curtains and pushed open the terrace doors. Although a steady rain fell on this gray day, Dembe allowed the warm summer wind to blow through the stuffy room. He’d had enough of seeing his dear friend suffer, and wished only to help him.

Raymond and Elizabeth were hurting, and Dembe’s heart ached for both of them. But this was not the way.  He leaned over his friend, who reeked of alcohol, and physically pulled him from the bed.

“You need to go to her, tell her how you feel. Tell her to come back.”

Ray managed to open his eyes, squinting at Dembe and tried to recall what he’d done with his eyeglasses. He shook his head to gather his thoughts. “Get out.”

His deep voice proved so menacing, Dembe actually thought for one moment that Raymond would strike him. But he didn’t care. “You were wrong to send her away.”

“She deserves more.” Ray managed as he leaned over to grab the steaming mug of coffee, and took a mouthful. The strong, bitter brew burned his tongue and he welcomed the sensation of heat.

“You deserve her!”

“You're wrong! Now leave me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, after enduring another icy shower, Ray managed to shrug into a pair of worn jeans and a black t-shirt. He needed more coffee. The mug Dembe had brought him barely scratched the surface of a cure to Ray’s hangover.

As he left his suite, he looked to the east wing, and made his way to her rooms. Approaching her door, he gripped the door knob, took a deep, uneven breath and entered.

He stood at the thresh hold, closing his eyes, breathing in the faint essence of her shampoo. How long did he stand there? He couldn’t know.

Daring to enter her bedroom, he looked at her bed, perfectly made up, every pillow in place, her vanity and beautiful mirror just as she’d found it when she moved in. She hadn’t taken a thing, not even a hair brush.  

But when he glimpsed toward the pillows propped near the headboard, he noticed something had been placed there.

He stepped closer to the bed, and there he found two perfectly bloomed roses, one red, the other white, thorns removed, perfectly entwined as if they’d grown that way; as if they’d belonged connected, red and white: passion and purity forever bound.

_Elizabeth, please understand; its better this way._

Lifting the flowers to his nose, he inhaled their perfect, seductive scent. Foregoing the coffee he had craved a moment before, he decided to return to his suite.

He pulled Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_ from a corner shelf, opened the well read tome to a beloved quote from the tragic tale and recited it in a pained whisper:

_“.....I do love nothing in the world so much as you….”_

He placed the roses onto the page, then pressed them within the book, carrying it back to his bed, where he fell back to sleep, cradling the Elizabeth’s gift close to his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After those first few agonizing days, Ray came to the realization that drinking, vomiting and passing out wasn’t doing him any good. He felt sick and had no appetite.

He couldn’t go on feeling this way. How could anyone go on in this manner?

To pass some time, he began swimming again, going to the pool every morning, doing laps back and forth, until he was too exhausted to think.

He only went to the garden to check on his beloved roses. But he stayed away from the terrace and only entered the library if he wanted a particular book; he never lingered.

Then he’d work until sunset, eat only enough to keep himself from starving, and collapsed into bed every night. But sleep never came easy, and her face was always the last thing on his mind before blessed slumber took over.

And so it went, day after day.

Kate and Dembe both noticed that he looked gaunt; he hardly spoke to anyone unless he absolutely had to; he’d lost weight, and the shadows under his eyes were grower darker by the day.

They agreed that something had to be done, and soon.

So after nearly a week of watching her employer and friend fall into a sad, resigned routine of existing instead of living, Kate climbed into her vintage Buick, and headed to Elizabeth’s apartment.

This ended now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liz attempted to muster up some semblance of happiness in seeing Kate at her door. But it was no use. All she could think of was Ray.

“I don’t have to ask how you’re doing, Dearie. You look awful. When is the last time you’ve eaten?”

Liz hardly paid attention to the question as she led Kate to the kitchen and offered her a seat. “I’m fine, Kate, really.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Elizabeth.”

“How is he, Kate?”

Liz made a fresh pitcher of lemonade and they sat at the tiny white kitchen table.

“You look almost as bad as he does, Dearie. He hardly eats or goes out. He swims every day to the point of exhaustion.” She looked at Liz and frowned. “I suspect he does it to constantly punish himself for letting you go.  Now what are you going to do about it?”

Liz was nearly taken aback by her friend’s blunt question, but not completely. “He doesn’t want me Kate.”

“Oh that’s a crock and you know it. I also know that you are not the kind of gal to give up.”

Liz didn’t hesitate. “I love him.”

Kate nodded. “So?”

Liz took a long cool swallow of lemonade. “I want him back, you know that. Hell, Kate, he knows it too.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Liz managed a smile for the first time in days. “Can you wait while I change and grab my bag?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, after being told by Dembe that he was probably in the garden, Liz walked on unsteady legs, to confront him.

_What do I say to him? What if he turns me away again?_

Liz was determined that she wouldn’t give him the chance to reject her again.

He was sitting, legs crossed, wearing khakis, a short sleeved white silk shirt, sunglasses and straw fedora, absently twirling the stem of a blush rose between his thumb and index finger.

His aloneness struck Liz and his pain reached out to her, as she clutched her chest. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved him. Swallowing tears and her own heart ache, she stepped closer to him.

 “You’ve lost weight.”

His head snapped up, but she wasn’t able to see his eyes. It didn’t matter. She knew just by his body language that he was suffering, as she was.

“Elizabeth.”

His voice cracked, low and deep. How she’d missed that voice.

“What are you doing here?”

She dared to step closer to him. He rose from the bench and faced her, the flower still in his grip.

She raised her arms and shrugged. “How can you ask me that?”

He shook his head, and removed his sunglasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if already weary of their short conversation. “We’ve already been over this, Elizabeth. I – “

“Please stop.” She interrupted him, and fought back tears.  “You know the truth. This is where I belong, with you. You know that, don’t you? Why are you fighting me on this?”

Her voice ascended in volume, but she couldn’t help it. “We gave each other everything. I shared everything with you. I gave you my heart, and I only wanted you to give me your own.”

Liz could tell by his body language that his walls were crumbling.  His lower lip quivered, his body steadily relaxed. He stared into her eyes, and she could see a faint spark of hope shine in those expressive green orbs.

“I want to come home, Ray. I know it can’t be easy for you to let me in. But I dare you to let me be there for you. Let me prove that I’m the one for you.”

She hadn’t given him a chance to turn her away and that was unfair. But Liz never played fair when it came to someone she loved. However she would give him the opportunity to tell her that he did not love her. Just one time.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll go and you’ll never see me again. Tell me, Ray.”

Her legs could hardly support her, as they stood just feet apart. The familiar scent of the roses assaulted her, the gentle breeze lifted the collar from his shirt, and all was quiet in the garden as she held her breath and waited for his answer.

She needed to be in his arms, in his life.

And then it happened. A single tear slid down his scarred cheek as he fell into her arms and the rose was forgotten as it slipped from his fingers.

“I’m dying without you.” He cried as they held on for dear life. "You never had to prove anything to me, Elizabeth. It’s me, it’s all on me. If you stay, I promise I’ll be worthy of your love.  I do love you; I do.”

They clung to each other while their soft cries broke the quiet of the warm summer afternoon.  They held on to each other so tight, nothing or no one could separate them.

“It’s okay.” She kissed his tears, caressing his cheeks, her heart splintering and shooting outward like so much glitter. “We’re going to be okay.”

He nodded and lifted his head, their eyes focused on each other. The world could have crumbled around them and they wouldn’t have noticed.

“I love you.” He repeated the words, as if he wasn’t able to say them enough, wiping her tears as she did the same for him. “I promise you’ll never cry again.”

He kissed her then, hard and desperate and deep, the salty taste from their tears mingling on their lips. He angled her head to gain deeper access to her mouth, and she opened to him allowing their tongues to mingle and swirl.

Ray couldn’t get enough of this enchanting beauty, whose tenacious strength had healed his fractured heart.

They shared heated kisses between whispered vows of love and devotion. Their hands caressed and touched, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. Ray understood that her love had brought him from a dark place within his crushed soul into the light of her love.

Breaking their kiss, Ray led them to the stone bench, where they sat, hands gripped tightly as if letting go would cause them both to shatter and disappear.

“You look awful,” she observed, in an attempt at lighthearted humor, while he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks, and dried her eyes.

He pushed errant strands of hair from her face. “I’ve missed touching your hair, the sound of your voice, your beautiful eyes….I’ve missed you, and I’m sorry I’ve made you cry; sorry I’ve hurt you.”

She grabbed his wrist. “You’ll never have to miss me again. Because all you have to do is say the words, Ray. Tell me.”

He swallowed and his eyes widened, and she could see the love there. “Be with me, forever. Marry me.”

She nodded as a sob escaped her throat. “Yes!” She touched his face. “We are so much better together than apart, you know that.”

“Please forgive me for bringing you so much pain. It was never my intention. I only wanted you to be free. To have a life you deserve. It seems that my scars remind me that the past is real for me.”

“We deserve each other, believe that.” She insisted. “You’ve let the past hurt you for so long, Ray. But it’s time to heal. It’s time for you to let it go.”

He managed a smile and nodded. “I believe you. You've taught me that it's possible to live for the light, to push away the dark.”

He ran his hand down the length of her hair, needing to have constant contact with her. “I want to tell you, that I fell in love with you that first day in the library, when I tried to chase you away. I knew that I wanted you, but that being with you was impossible. It seems that the past and my scars would not allow me to find happiness again. I felt I didn’t deserve it, until today.”

“As long as we love each other, nothing is impossible."  

And again, Ray pulled her into his arms for a kiss that aroused and excited them. “I want to make love to you.”

She understood as he kissed the hand she held out to him, and together they walked toward the house. “Yes.”

“Welcome home, Elizabeth.”

 

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding celebration, and a future bright with promise ~~ and something else.

7 Weeks later………………

 

“Are you nervous?”

Ray exhaled a nervous chuckle, then stole a quick kiss from Liz, his tie undone and a quizzical smile curving his handsome mouth. She looked absolutely gorgeous, a vision in ivory lace.

She stepped away so that he again faced his reflection in the full length mirror. He attempted to steady his shaky hands, while his tie remained askew. “Now why would you ask me that?”

“Because that’s the third time you’ve screwed up your tie.”

He tilted his head and bit the inside of his cheek. “I want it to look perfect. For your information, I’m getting married in an hour, Miss Keen.”

“Won’t be ‘Keen’ for long.” She pointed out. “By the way, I heard your bride is a beauty; smart and sexy too.”

“Yes, and you forgot, ‘sassy’. I like ‘sassy.”

Liz adored the way they were able to joke together;  and the manner in which he’d changed in the past few weeks. He'd allowed many of his walls to crumble into ash, and now, they were truly ready to be together, forever. After all, it was their wedding day.

He leaned down, close to her ear and whispered.  “And I’m very lucky that she will have me.”

“Yes, you are,” she feigned a stern look, catching his mouth once again, nothing but love shining in his joy filled green eyes. Never did Liz imagine happiness such as this.

“Are you all packed?” He asked, watching in awe as her steady fingers tied a perfect knot, while he admired her shapely rear end in the mirror’s reflection.

She nodded. “Dembe put our bags in the car. This way we can leave first thing in the morning and make our flight on time. I guess it doesn’t pay for me to ask again where you’re taking me on our honeymoon, Mr. Reddington, hmm?”

He didn’t answer right away. He was too busy looking down at her. He filled his eyes with the sight of his bride. Her hair was upswept and entwined around a lovely crystal tiara, in a stunning style that showed off her shoulders and the lovely curve of her neck. He couldn’t wait to feast on that flesh later. Diamond drops dangled from the delicate curl of her ears, and a matching diamond pendant shone from her neck, both a wedding present from him.

But it was her dress that he couldn’t wait to peel from her when they were alone. A sleeveless, strapless creation of silver and ivory lace draped her chest to ankles and outlined her figure perfectly. From the hint of her full cleavage to the dent in her slender waist, down to the nearly impossibly high heels. She was clearly a vision of loveliness and sensuality that could not be ignored.  He would count the moments until he could slowly peel that sensational dress from her, and make love to her all night.

His bride. His Lizzie.

“Are you listening to me?” she interrupted his carnal thoughts a moment later.

He watched as she walked to the bed, gathering his vest and suit jacket and boutonniere, helping him shrug into his shirt waist first, then the pearl gray jacket.

“Never miss a word when you’re speaking to me, my love,” He grabbed his eyeglasses from the bedside table and slid them on. “And no, our destination is a surprise.”

“Ah, I love a challenge.” She feigned a frown, then pinned a white rose to his left lapel. “Well, don’t be so sure that I can’t kiss the truth out of you.”

“You can try. Bring it on.”

“Oh you know I will.”

He leaned into her. “And I’ll be waiting for that moment, sweetheart.”

A knock on their door brought their attention to Dembe. “Raymond , we are ready to begin.”

The faint sound of violins played in the distance, signaling that it was time. Elizabeth and Raymond gazed into each other’s eyes and sighed.

Elizabeth searched his face and saw only joy. “Shall we go?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

She winked at him. “I love you,” she mouthed without speaking.

“I love you more,” he answered, turned to gather her wedding bouquet, a circle of red and ivory roses, with baby’s breath scattered between the blooms, then tied together with ivory silk ribbon, all picked by Ray from their rose garden.

She took a deep breath, then took her flowers in one hand, grabbed Ray’s hand in the other. Together they left the suite and made their way outside and walked to the newly constructed gazebo that Ray had built just for this occasion. Lit with thousands of tiny white lights and surrounded by thousands of roses, the sight of the nearly surreal structure brought tears to Liz’s eyes.

A dozen or so guests filled the several rows of white chairs, all decorated with tulle bows. Everyone stood as the violins played the wedding march, watching with happy smiles as the happy couple walked arm in arm to the center of the gazebo, where Kate Kaplan stood awaiting their presence to perform the traditional ceremony.

The faced each other, took hands, and exchanged vows, promising to love and cherish the other, through sickness and health, in good times and bad, until the end of time.

They exchanged circular bands of platinum and diamonds,  symbols of their unending love and devotion.

When Kate finally proclaimed Elizabeth and Raymond joined for life, they turned to each other. Ray tenderly took her face in his slightly trembling hands and sealed their vow with a deep kiss. She’d truly been his second chance, and his light that had brought them to this point in their lives: they were married.

A small, fun-filled reception immediately followed the ceremony. Drinking champagne, dancing and laughing with friends, eating imported caviar and filet mignon in their cavernous dining room, every aspect of the evening had gone off without a hitch.

“What are you thinking?”

She was warm and lovely, dancing in his arms, when he thought about her question. He inhaled the scent of roses and Lizzie, while they moved as one on the make shift dance floor.

He whispered something suggestive in her ear, making her blush, then kissed her deep and hard. “I love you, Mrs. Reddington.”

“I know.” She answered, tears of bliss filling her eyes, knowing that dreams did indeed come to fruition. “Thank you for all of this.” She looked around the room, where their guests were laughing and drinking, dancing and eating. “I never want this night end. I love you so much.”

“I promise to make all your nights as happy as this one.”

And as the hours passed, the guests began to say their goodbyes, wishing Liz and Ray their hearty congratulations for a long life filled with nothing but love and happiness. It was near midnight as Dembe and Kate were the last to depart.

Closing the door behind them, Ray watched as Liz slipped off her high heels. He often wondered how women walked in those things, but Elizabeth had made it all look so easy.  Without hesitation, he gathered her in his arms, and carried her up that long stairway, the pain in his leg long gone. Her light laughter caused his heart to rejoice, as she tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, stealing kisses along the way. He wanted her more with every step he took.

She was his completely and they would belong to each other all the days of their life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Moments later, they faced each other in their now renovated bedroom suite. The open doors to the terrace were opened and the heavenly scent of roses drifted into the room along with the cool October breeze.

A full autumn moon cast just enough light to outline their silhouettes, as Ray gazed at his bride with hungry eyes.

Her heart fluttered when he leaned in to kiss her, his hands cupped her face, and his thumbs brushed across her cheek as his tongue found hers.

Ray felt her body as it melted into him, the sensations sending him deeper and deeper into an arousal that he could not control. Her scent hypnotized him; her skin was soft and tempting under his searching fingers.

 He drew a searching hand up and down the length of her bare arms in a sensual touch. She moved in closer to him then, and their thighs touched, bringing a sensation of heat that was at once, exquisite and familiar.

 “Turn around, love.” He instructed softly, needing to get her out of that dress. 

Liz slowly turned, presenting her back to him. There were so many buttons, and with every fastening he released, his body reacted to the beauty that was Elizabeth, as more and more of her flesh was exposed to his sight.

 As he approached the final button, he sighed and kissed her, from neck to lower back, then let the dress fall like sparkling diamonds to her feet.

 He turned her, seeing the desire in her eyes, knowing she wanted him as much as he craved her body, her beauty. 

She wore a strapless, ivory silk bra that matched the tiny scrap of silk that covered her mound. He’d ordered the exquisite, delicate lingerie from a boutique in Paris, and Liz glimpsed the appreciation for her undergarments in his eyes.

 “I take it you approve.”

 His brows raised in admiration as he reached for the front clasp releasing her plump breasts to his view. “Beyond lovely.” But he wasn’t looking at the fabric as he tossed the bra aside. He lowered his head and rubbed his mouth across her erect nipples, and she threw back her head back and moaned.

 They were standing in the shadows of moonlight, and he feasted on her breasts as she held his arms. He suckled and nipped, enjoying and delighted in her beauty, loved the sounds she made when he touched her. But it was all not enough – for either of them.

 He wanted to give her more, needed to bring her pleasure and at the same time, hungered for the taste of her.

 So he dropped to his knees.

 He gazed up into her moonlit orbs of sapphire, while his slow moving hands and lips caressed her from ankle to knee, to her thigh and further up, till he reached the scrap of silk covering all her feminine secrets. 

Their eyes never wavered from the other as he gripped the material in both hands, excruciatingly slid the panties from her mound, down past her upper legs, then her well muscled calves, finally to her ankles, where Elizabeth lifted one foot, then the other, allowing him to divest her of the silky fabric.

 “Open for me, darling.” His soft, yet raspy command sent a clenching throb to her core as she opened to him. This man,  now her husband, who was on his knees before her, worshipping and surrendering to her, while she gave all she was, to his safekeeping.

 The moment his thumbs opened her wide, exposing all she was to him, she steadied her hands on his shoulders, hoping to remain steady for the onslaught to come.

 His tongue pierced and speared her opening, and Liz cried out in superb pleasure, as she dripped arousal, and he tasted her, every drop. He dove into her, spreading her wide as his mouth suckled her Mons, circling that tongue of his around, inside and out. She braced herself when his hands slid around and palmed her ass, as he pushed her further into his mouth, where her climax was moments away.

He tongued her, inside and out, using his mouth and lips to bring her pleasure she’d never known. Liz went still, her heart pounding in her ears, as she held tight, knowing he’d never let her go.

 Her climax was wild and wet, her legs shaking with the force of his actions, and she cried out his name, as he stood and caught her before she fell.

 “I adore you,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost in the autumn breeze, as he threw off the bed linens as if whipping off a cape, then lifted and carried her to the bed, and settled her in the center. 

He stood at the side of their king sized bed, looking down at her, naked and warm and all so ready for him. 

He hair was tangled within the crystal tiara that continued to sparkle, her breasts rosy and nipples pink and erect. The place between her legs glistened from her climax, and Ray grew hard as he took in every incredible inch of her flesh.

 Liz watched him as his eyes raked over her body. She was still wet for him, wanted him more as she never wanted anything in her life. 

He was still completely dressed, and that enflamed her even more. 

“Take off your clothes, love.” She whispered, sliding one hand down her body, dipping one finger into her damp cleft, then held it up to her husband. “Come to me; taste me.” 

His erection became a painful thing, and while toeing off his shoes and socks, he shakily undid his perfectly knotted tie, threw it across the room, then ripped his shirt waist open, scattering buttons everywhere in his haste to join her. 

His snow white shirt soon followed, as did his t-shirt.

 When he began to unbuckle his belt, Lizzie rose to her knees and presented him with her essence soaked finger, which he grabbed and placed in his mouth, sucking on it, while she took over. 

“Hmm,” he reacted to her essence. “You taste like Heaven.” 

She kissed him then,  and he tasted her on his lips as a fever flooded them with hunger and need. 

“Touch me,” he demanded, as her hand found her way through his slacks to his rock hard length. Thick and long, she rubbed her palm over the proof of his desire for her. 

She undid his zipper, and pulled down his slacks, then his black boxer/briefs, letting his length spring forward.

 “Tell me what you want.”  She teased, knowing his answer.

 He took deep breaths as her hands played havoc on his flesh.  “I’m in flames; put out the fire.” He breathed. 

And then she lowered her head to his heat, sucking him, embracing his length with both hands as he cried out her name, telling her how good her mouth felt on him, confessing his love and desire, moaning as she suckled his crown until drops of creamy essence were on her tongue.

 “Hurry, Lizzie. I can’t take much more, sweetheart.” He managed to utter.

 She knew exactly how much more he could tolerate. She also wanted him inside her. But not before she consumed him, devoured him until he was close to the edge.

 She felt his hands on her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples, while her mouth moved on him, up, down, licking and sucking his crown. Her hands traveled to the twin sacks, heavy with arousal, and so sensitive now to her touch.

 As his ministrations to her breasts grew more desperate, she knew he was close. Elizabeth knew his body as well as her own, and he was ready.

 Without a word, she released him, lay back on the bed and opened her thighs in welcome invitation. He followed her down in answer, kissed her hard and sure, tasting himself on his mouth.

 Gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders, he wasted no time in gripping his shaft and plunging into her heat.

 Tremors began a sensual rhythm inside her, bursting with a myriad of sensation.  He was thrusting, giving her all he had; his love, passion, all for her. “Raymond…..I do love……you.” 

 His lips were hot on her face and neck, inflaming her skin each place he touched. Her body quivered under the assault of his eager hands. 

 “Elizabeth……Lizzie…..”

 He continued to bury himself inside her as his lips sought the soft hollow of her neck, trailing downward. His face lowered to her breasts, kissing and sucking each one until they ached. She threw back her head, closing her eyes, as his mouth and fingers continued to tease.

 Faster and faster, he continued to push until he felt her approach the edge of the precipice.

 Then she felt herself being lifted and placed over him. 

“Take me all the way, my Lizzie; now. Hurry, my love.”

 Without missing a beat, she met his passion filled green eyes, saw his nostrils flare with arousal, and watched as he licked his lips.

 He was long and hard inside her, his hands holding her hips as she rode him hard and hot, their bodies slippery with the proof of their arousal.  A little more…..

 “Go over for me, darling,” he cried as he felt her inner walls clench and grip him hard and hot. “Take me with you.” 

Within seconds, amidst the turbulence of their love, they reached the peak, then dove from the cliff together.

 

Moments passed. They were silent in each other’s arms, their breathing returning to normal, as Ray reached to the floor and grabbed a sheet, covering them both. 

The moonlight shone on their bed, their bodies, and their love. The scents of roses, sex and the autumn breeze shrouded them as the hour grew late and their world grew silent. 

He kissed her tenderly, her even breathing telling him that she’d slid into sweet slumber. 

He was exhausted as well, and knew they had to catch an early flight in a few hours. Although he’d never told her their destination, she’d known they were flying out of the country because he’d asked her if she possessed a passport.

 He was taking his new bride to Europe, maybe South America, wherever she wished to go. He’d take her to the ends of the earth if she so wished, as long as they were together. 

He turned his head to look upon her lovely face, now flushed from lovemaking. He’d never get enough of her, no matter how long he lived.

 She was his life….his heart…..and she was here with him.

 “This is just the beginning, Lizzie,” he whispered, his lips gently kissing her hair as her warmth instilled love and life back into his empty heart.  “Who says a beauty cannot love a beast?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

      

EPILOGUE 

 

“I want Momma.”

Ray turned from the counter in the kitchen and looked at the blonde curly haired angel sitting in her high chair, a chocolate chip cookie crumbled in her hand and evidence of that cookie spread all over her face. She was cranky, wanting Elizabeth and badly in need of a nap.

Shaking his head, taking a deep breath and hiding a chuckle, he approached his nearly three year old toddler carrying a warm wash cloth and cleaned her face and hands,  then lifted her from the chair, kissing her cheeks, and pushed one errant curl behind her ear.  “Okay, Rosie, Posie, let’s go see Momma.”  His soft laughter hid the happy tears welling in his throat as he carried his first born up the stairs toward the master bed room.

“Can we see the babies, Daddy?”

“We’re almost there, Rosie,” he kissed her warm cheek again, staring into her dazzling sapphire eyes, her mother’s eyes, while her chubby fingers held his head and planted a tickling, wet kiss on his skin, then yawned.

As they approached the closed door of the master bedroom, a wriggling Rosie climbed from her father’s grasp to push open the door, where her mother was sitting up in the enormous bed.

Elizabeth Reddington was aglow with happiness as she spotted her husband and their oldest child walk toward her. “Hey sweetheart,” she called out to Ray. “And there’s my Rosie Posie.”

Ray spied the picture before him and swore he’d remember this day, and these precious moments in his heart, forever.

For a woman who’d given birth to twin girls four days ago, Elizabeth looked positively radiant, holding one infant daughter, Lily, while twin sister Daisy slept peacefully in the cradle beside their bed.

“Momma!”

Before the toddler could climb onto the bed, Ray caught her and together they sat on the bed, next to Liz, while she breast fed their youngest.

She lifted her head to receive his kiss and smiled at the scene before her. “How does it feel to be surrounded by women, Mr. Reddington?”

He laughed and watched as Rosie cuddled with Elizabeth, while Ray took the infant from her arms to burp her. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“She’s beautiful, Lizzie, looks just like you.”

“It will be hard to tell them apart, they are so identical.”

He nodded and kissed his infant, gently touching her tuft of dark brown hair, watching her bowed lips mimic a sucking motion, while her green eyes were now closed in blessed slumber.

“Well, let’s see how identical. Rosie, who’s this?”

“Lily…baby…my baby.”

Both Ray and Liz laughed at the fact that their toddler was able to tell the babies apart. “Oh well, I stand corrected.”

Ray placed Lily in her cradle, then settled in bed near Liz, Rosie between them. “How are you feeling, my Lizzie?”

She took his hand and placed it on her cheek, then kissed his palm. “I’m wonderful, Ray; a little tired, but glad the girls are healthy. How are you doing, ‘daddy’?”

He looked at his wife, then at Rosie, turned his head to gaze upon his sleeping twin girls and sighed.  His words caught in his throat, choking him, then leaving him speechless. He just shook his head, and Liz understood.  No words were needed. She knew. It was all like a dream, a fairy tale come true for them.

While Rosie squirmed between them, Liz took Ray’s face in her hands, placed a loving kiss on his mouth, and looked into his beautiful green eyes. The eyes she fell in love with when she walked into this house, over five years ago.  The eyes that showed her warmth and compassion, never judged, and later on, burned with passion, consumed with love for her.

She’d been his second chance, his way out of the darkness and into the light. She’d taken his hand and led him from the black cave and into the sun.

Lizzie had healed his broken soul, and breathed life into his shattered heart.

“I love you,” she mouthed, as he grabbed her wrists and held on.

“I love you more,” he mouthed back, aware that the toddler lying between them was starting to doze off.

They shared whispered words of love, then Liz joined her daughters in slumber.

Ray settled himself in, happiness filling him as never before, surrounded by his girls as they slept peacefully, silently grateful for the life he’d been given, with a woman who’d never lost faith in him.  

He vowed with his life to watch over them and protect them ……forever.

 

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Liz and Raymond's journey in The Rose Garden ~~ I also want to thank every single one of you from the bottom of my heart, for reading, commenting and taking the time to enter an alternate universe where our favorite lovers find their way to love and laughter ~~ and truly have the happy ever after they deserve. I love you all.


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